


For Bad or Worse

by caswatchesoveryou, sternchencas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Cop!Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mafioso!cas, Mutual Pining, No happy end, alternating pov, perceived MCD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-14 17:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19277833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswatchesoveryou/pseuds/caswatchesoveryou, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/pseuds/sternchencas
Summary: The beautiful city of Valentine is in the grasp of two major crime families, the Angels and the Demons. Caught in between is Dean Winchester, a cop who's driven to bring the criminals down. He hits a major speed bump as one blue eyed Angel shows Dean that the difference between right and wrong is not always easy to see and even harder to live by. With Dean's career and even his life on the line, he has to decide if he's ready to lose everything for love.





	1. Valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caswatchesoveryou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswatchesoveryou/gifts).



> IMPORTANT: There are some spoiler-y tags that might trigger some people. You can always find tags/warnings in the end notes of each chapter if there are any. You can also [ask me on tumblr](http://sternchencas.tumblr.com) first if you want to avoid certain content. 
> 
> THANK YOU to my lovely artist [Heikü](http://cas-watches-over-you.tumblr.com) for being my muse once again for a story that was so much fun to write. Without your music, inspiration, and love for the story, it wouldn't be here right now. And the art. Oh my Chuck, the art. You're awesome!!! 💖
> 
> Thanks to [wargurl83](http://wargurl83.tumblr.com%22) for jumping in when my first beta checked out. You're great! Any mistakes left are all mine.

Dean pushes his sunglasses back up his sweaty nose and squints at the road. The sun is so bright that the pavement is glistening in the sun. It shines down mercilessly on the column of cars in front of him, reflecting off every bit of glass and chrome that it can find. The road signs are squares of pure white light, and Dean almost misses his exist. He squeezes the Impala in between a barely there opening between a blue van and a shiny red convertible. The driver is not happy about that development. In the rearview mirror, Dean can see him complain to the woman in the passenger seat, but she gives him no mind, too busy with rearranging a shawl around her head.

With every passing second sitting in traffic, Dean wants to rip his clothes off. He regrets putting on a suit, but he wants to look professional on his first day in the new job. Dean’s on the way to the 1st Precinct in Valentine, his new/old home. When he left years ago, he hadn’t planned on coming back, but destiny takes pleasure in chewing up his dreams and spitting them out.

It feels strange to drive back into the city. He’s following a familiar road as if he’s seen it in a dream. It has restaurants he’s been to and stores where he liked to shop, but it’s no longer the city he grew up in, now a mere caricature of itself. A corner with a small park and a bench has turned into a glossy diner in blue, white, and red. Dean should mourn the loss of the bench where he hung out with his friends, but he’s not a kid anymore. New Dean might enjoy the food in the diner.

With thoughts of ice cold lemonade on his mind, Dean keeps driving, the city in full swing around him, despite the oppressive heat. The people go about their business in shorts and thin dresses, trying to stay cool while still being as decent as possible. Dean wishes he could join them. He already discarded his jacket and tie, both lying in a puddle next to him as if something pinstriped melted in the seat.

Dean pushes his glasses up again and fumbles open the top button of his shirt. His windows are rolled down, but there’s not even a hint of a breeze. Finally, Dean reaches First Street, the police station coming into view. Dean parks on the side of the road to make the rest of the way on foot. With a sigh, he puts his mangled tie back on and slips into his suit jacket.

As Dean comes closer, he sees the big sign over the entrance of the police station that warns people to uphold the law with the words:

_"They who disturb the peace of Valentine shall prepare to feel the wrath of the law.“_

In Dean’s youth, the message went on with:

_"For crimes are never forgotten, and rarely forgiven.“_

When he was younger, Dean had his dad read the sign to him every time they entered the station, enamored by it. But then, a bit of its glamour had been stolen after some criminals set fire to it. Only the top half survived, and to this day, people still joke about it since the wrath of the law never reached the vandalists.

Walking past a row of neatly parked police cars, Dean tries to push the pictures of his dad out of his mind. He’s here for a fresh start and it won’t do him good to dwell on the past.

A group of uniformed police come out of the building and push past him, jogging to their cars. The sight spikes Dean’s adrenaline. He wishes he could go with them, but he‘s probably going to get stuck doing paperwork for at least the first few days. Dean makes his way up the steps to the entrance, taking two at a time. Holding the door for an old lady, he has a hard time standing still until he walks into his new place of work.

Inside, Dean takes off his glasses, marveling at everything around him. The entrance hall is inlaid with small glass windows and has a high ceiling, almost like a cathedral. Dean steps around the coat of arms embedded in the floor. It shows a ship on the river Styx, a pair of turtledoves, and two crossed keys, all of it framed by the words "Valentine City Police Department.“ Although it’s been here for many years, it looks brand new on the polished floor. Whoever built this station wanted it to stand the test of time.

Wide stairs lead up to the upper floors just past the security check. Dean makes his way through, then heads to the information desk in the center of the hall to ask for directions.

"Hi, it’s my first day here, and-"

The woman sitting in front of him lifts her finger to shut him up, making a few notes in an enormous book in front of her. It must be the visitor’s log. When she’s done writing, she lays down her pen and looks at him with raised eyebrows. "Your name, sir?“

"Dean Winchester.“

She leans over to a box on her right and flips through the index cards inside of it. "Here we go,“ she says, fishing out a red one. Her eyebrows rise even higher. "You have an appointment with Chief Singer? Up the stairs, left corridor. Take the third left, last door on the right. Got it?“

"Yes, thank you,“ Dean says and steps aside to let the person behind him take his place.

A little confused, Dean makes his way up the stairs. He would have guessed that Bobby would want to talk to him at some point, but not right away. Following the woman’s directions, he makes it to a dark blue door. The sign next to it says: "Robert Singer, Chief of Police, VCPD.”

Dean knocks, and a gruff voice shouts, "Come in.“

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Dean opens the door. The room in front of him is pretty straight forward. Bookshelves line the walls on both sides, and a heavy wooden desk stands in the center of the room with two chairs in front of it. Bobby is sitting behind it with a grumpy expression on his face, but when he sees Dean, he immediately lightens up.

"Dean!“ Bobby turns his wheelchair around and pushes himself around the desk towards Dean. "Look at you, all grown up.“

Bobby stretches out his arms, so Dean bends down to hug him. "It’s good to see you, Bobby.“

"Sit down,“ Bobby orders, returning to his place behind the desk. He takes another long look at Dean. "Huh, Dean Winchester. Hell, I put in the paperwork for your transfer, but told myself, I ain’t gonna believe it until he walks through that door.“

Dean smiles, slapping his hands on the armrests of his chair. "And now I’m here.“

"Have you seen Sam yet?“

"No, we wanted to meet up after work.“

"Good, good,“ Bobby says, but his tone has lost the cheerfulness, and he keeps staring at Dean, lost in thought.

"Why am I here, Bobby?“ Dean asks. "Not that I’m complaining, but shouldn’t I meet my captain? I wouldn’t want any special treatment just because we know each other.”

"I wish I didn’t have to give you any special treatment,“ Bobby grunts, his face turning darker by the second. "But the higher-ups have other ideas.“

"Like what?“

Bobby moves a few files around his desk, biding time, but then he pushes them away with a grunt. "For the record, I ain’t happy with this, but after years of not getting anywhere, this might be our chance.”

Bobby sighs. “We need you to go undercover.“

 

* * *

 

"Undercover?“ Sam whispers in shock, his eyes wide as he stares at Dean.

"Yeah.“ Dean looks around the diner to make sure that nobody is listening. "Bobby said I only have to do it if I want to. And I can pick if I’ll go to the Angels or Demons.“

"Well, neither. That would be suicide.“ Sam pokes at his salad as if that’s the end of the discussion.

"I’ll go with the Demons.“

Sam gives Dean one of his infamous bitch faces, his fork hanging in mid-air. "Don’t joke about that.“

"I’m not joking, Sam.“ Dean takes another look around before leaning over the table. "They’ve been trying to get a man on the inside for ages. This is an opportunity to get those sons of bitches.“

Sam puts his fork down as if he needs his whole body to push his opinion on Dean. "It’s too dangerous, Dean, you have to see that.“

"Says the guy who locks up these criminals like clockwork,“ Dean says, before taking a sip from his milkshake.

"Look, even these guys have rules. They wouldn’t dare to hurt a prosecutor. It’s more trouble than what it’s worth. But I’m sure they wouldn’t take kindly to a cop who’s ratting them out.“

"Sam, you’re over-"

"I’m not overreacting! How can you even consider this? These people killed dad, they burnt mom alive in our own house,“ Sam chokes, his eyes watering. "You were only four when you tried to get me out, and Bobby will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He was barely alive when the firefighters found him.“

"Newsflash, Sammy, I know that.“ Dean speaks through gritted teeth and tries to calm Sam by lifting up his hand.

Sam only gets madder, his voice barely covered by the music coming out of the nearby jukebox. "Do you? ‘Cause you seem very eager to throw your life away.“

"Dad would have wanted me to do it.“

"Oh, Jesus.“ Sam leans back, rolling his eyes. "That’s your reason?“

Dean stares at Sam’s salad. Was that his reason? When he decided to come back to Valentine, all he wanted was to be a cop in the city he grew up in. But as soon as Bobby mentioned the Demons, Dean’s insides started burning. There’s a fire inside of him that won’t be easily quenched.

"Sam, I tried to walk away, but all this time, I couldn’t stop thinking about the people responsible. I have a chance to make it better, to make it right.“

"Dean-"

"I think we should continue where dad left off. Saving people, hunting these- these things, these monsters. Angels and Demons. It’s our family business.“

Sam runs his hands over his face, looking like he just aged twenty years. "You want a family business? Repair cars, or open a restaurant.“

"And then what? Give a percentage of my winnings to one of the local crime families?“ Dean doesn’t try to hide his sarcasm, and they sit in silence for a while.

"I’m just worried,“ Sam finally says. "This is not a joke.“

"Well, I’m not doing it for kicks. I think I can make a difference.“

Sam watches Dean for a moment before he sighs deeply. "Promise me that you’ll be careful.“

"Aw, are you worried?“ Dean teases with a smile.

"Jerk.“

"Bitch.“

Sam fights his smile and then watches Dean intently. "You’ll call me as often as possible so I know that you’re alright.“

Another joke pops up in Dean’s mind, but he doesn’t say it. Sam’s dead serious. "Alright, I will.“

Sam nods as if they just signed an important contract. "Now eat your burger. You’re starting to scare me leaving it there on your plate.“

Dean picks up his untouched burger with a grin. "No problem.“

He takes a big bite while Sam returns to his salad. Dean keeps sneaking glances at him as he chews. It feels good to be back, just for moments like these. If Dean can make sure that the Demons won’t get the chance to rip up more families, then the danger will be worth it.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Dean stay at the diner for a few hours, reminiscing about the good old days. Despite losing their parents so young, they still managed to have a good childhood.

Officially, they’d lived with Missouri Moseley. She’d been the head of child services, and a good friend of their parents. It’s thanks to her that they learned manners and how to be compassionate towards other people.

Another good influence had been Ellen Harvelle. As the owner of "the Roadhouse, “ she had run-ins with Bobby and John all the time. As soon as Dean could walk, he would dart around the bar, crawl under tables and chairs, and generally make it impossible for Ellen to work. He also found his first best friend in Ellen’s daughter, Jo, a blonde spitfire two years younger than Dean.

Together with her and Sam, Dean had also spent a lot of time at Singer’s Salvage yard. Bobby inherited it from his father, and although he chose another career, he’d never given it up. The junkyard was run by Rufus Turner, who was never shy to tell his honest opinions, even to the kids. Dean learned a lot from him, from fixing cars to politics to which parts of town you should stay away from.

Dean’s driving through one of these parts right now. It’s darker than he remembers, and although the sun hasn’t set yet, the streets are almost empty. Even the people living here don’t dare to be out at night. That’s one of the reasons Dean decided to be a police officer. To him, Valentine is a beautiful city. It houses people like Missouri, Ellen, and Rufus, who didn’t hesitate to provide a home and a family for two orphans. These people deserve a happy, unburdened life.

Instead, the docks and the lower parts of the city are home to the Demons. Lead by Lucifer Star, a ruthless psychopath, they murder and plunder as if the whole city belongs to them. The river, Styx, that runs alongside the city, could bring tourist ships and wealth to the city, but mainly carries drugs, and sometimes even people who are being forced into labor in one of Lucifer’s sweatshops.

Driving on, Dean looks up to the higher parts of the city. The street lights flicker to life one after the other, slowly reaching the top, Heaven Hill. It’s a beautiful landmark and the part of town that was able to hold on to its trees. As a kid, Dean thought of it as actual heaven, but now he knows that it’s more like a second hell.

Even from here, Dean can see Heaven Manor, home of the Novak family and headquarters for the Angels. Despite the name, they aren’t any less deviant than the Demons, indulging in crime at every turn. After their leader Chuck died, he gave his imperium over to his three sons, the half brothers Gabriel, Balthazar, and Castiel. Unlike Lucifer, they keep their cards close to their chest, rarely appearing in public. Still, Dean is confident that he can dig up some dirt on them during his investigation.

The only reason Dean picked to infiltrate the Demons and not the Angels is a well-kept secret that he didn’t tell Sam or Bobby. During his time in the police academy, Dean did extensive research and by now he’s sure of one important detail. The person, who murdered his parents and burned down their house, is one of the inner circle of the Demons.

 

* * *


	2. The New Guy

Castiel is in the kitchen washing his hands when Garth comes in, a little out of breath. "Castiel? Gabriel is asking for you.“

Taking off his apron, Castiel sighs as he hangs it up. "And what does my dear brother want now?“

"I don’t know.“ Garth‘s eyes wander from the apron to the uncleaned counter, taking in the mess, but not commenting on it. "He didn’t say.“

Of course, he didn’t. Gabriel likes to cloak himself in an air of mystery. "I’ll be right up,“ Castiel says, drying his hands with a towel and checking his nails.

Garth nods and bustles out of the kitchen. Castiel follows him up the stairs at a slower pace and pauses for a moment as he enters the hall. The sun shines through the big windows at the front of the house. After the cool of the basement, he feels the heat pressing in on him even more than usual.

The last couple of days have been the hottest in the history of the city. It’s as if God is holding a magnifying glass over Valentine, hoping for it to finally catch fire. The thought makes Castiel sweat. He takes off his tie to stuff it into the pocket of his slacks before continuing down the hall.

A long corridor leads to the head office of the Angel’s leader. The family calls it the Throne Room; a pompous name, but a fitting one. The corridor is lined with sideboards filled with rare trinkets, and pillars that hold expensive vases and busts. In Castiel’s eyes, all of it is unnecessary trash and should be thrown out or given away. The Angels have to maintain a certain status, though. They live on top of the hill, wear the nicest fabrics and drive the shiniest cars. Everybody else is beneath them.

A guard stands next to the double doors that lead into the Throne Room. He gives a quick nod to Castiel before opening the door for him. Inside, Castiel walks past a sitting area with a glass table and a fluffy rug, which is likely the most expensive one in the whole city. He ignores the portraits of the former family leaders and steps around a screen that hides the boss‘ desk.

Gabriel is launching in a broad office chair, his feet propped up on the desk, flipping through a magazine. "I will never understand these young people. Who would wear that?“

"That’s rich coming from you,“ Castiel grunts, eyeing Gabriel’s choice of clothing.

"Cassie baby, glad you got my call.“ Gabriel looks down at himself. He’s wearing a white linen suit with a canary yellow shirt, but while Castiel wishes he could shield his eyes from the glaring color, Gabriel only shrugs. "Anyway, I have work for you.“

"Is that so?“ Castiel raises an eyebrow at Gabriel’s feet. "You do know that this is mahogany, right?“

Gabriel rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. "Why would I have a mahogany desk if I can’t put my feet on it?“

"You could put papers on it, write a letter, read a book for a change,“ Castiel says as he gestures at the bookshelves lining the walls. "Or use it for anything else desks were actually made for.“

"Bor-ring,“ Gabriel sings. He steps around the desk, reaching for Castiel’s shirt to open some of the top buttons. "You really need to loosen up a little. I can’t take you to the club looking like this.“

Gabriel’s club, Candyland, is located in the Heaven Heights. It‘s Gabriel’s pride and joy, offering booze, music, and drugs to a clientele that doesn’t know what else to buy with the vast amounts of money they’re sitting on. There hasn’t been a single time in Castiel’s life when he wanted to go there.

After Gabriel unhooks the second button on Castiel’s shirt, Castiel manages to shove his hands away. "Why would I go into that den of iniquity?“

"A little birdie told me that it’s been a while since you had a nice slab of meat,“ Gabriel says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"The only birdie talking to you is Balthazar, and he has no valuable information about the last time I had sexual intercourse.“

Gabriel blinks as if he didn’t understand a word Castiel just said. Then he gives him a pitying smile. "It’s been that long, huh? If you come to the club, I’m sure we’ll find someone to bend you over that mahogany-"

“Gabriel!” One of Castiel’s well-known traits is patience, but Gabriel has a way of pushing his buttons like nobody else. "The job?”

Gabriel stares back at him, and for the first time since Castiel entered the office, he actually looks like a leader. He’s smaller than Castiel, but radiates power, as if he could conjure a force that would smite Castiel right then and there. Instead, Gabriel only shrugs and the moment is over.

He walks back around the desk, falls into the chair, and puts his feet back up. "I need you to overlook the weekly deal with the Coven down at the docks.“

A throbbing pain appears behind Castiel‘s eyes; his patience wearing thin. "Didn’t you tell me that Garth can totally handle it and that I shouldn’t worry about it anymore?“

"I did, and I was right.“ Gabe smiles at Castiel, but he must see that Castiel is not in the mood for more games, so he continues quickly. "The Demons have a new man. I thought you would like to take a look for yourself. You’re still the best at finding traitors and sniffing out cops.“

"Alright,“ Castiel says, somewhat surprised that Gabriel made a reasonable judgment call. Then he remembers their schedule. "Wait, the Coven deal is always Thursdays at 9.“

"Is it?“ Gabe asks, checking his watch. "You better prepare yourself then. It’s such a bitch to drive through the whole city in the evening.“

Castiel turns on his heel and stalks away quickly because otherwise, he might actually strangle his brother.

 

* * *

 

It’s still warm even after the sun’s gone down, but Castiel can wear his suit without feeling like he’s boiling alive with every step. Arriving at the docks, he leans against the wall near the main gate and waits for the Demons’ new guy to show.

It’s unusual for them to make a deal together, but Castiel is still proud that he got them to agree to it. The Coven brings in a shipment of drugs every week, and both Angels and Demons get half of it. While Gabriel likes to have "something more fun“ at his club, Castiel mainly enjoys taking things away from Demons.

Castiel reaches into his inside pocket to retrieve a joint. While he’s not interested in the business aspect, he does enjoy the personal benefit of the drugs. For weeks, he’s been busy in the kitchen, often hours on end. It’s nice to be away from that basement and out in the fresh air, taking the edge off. He lights the joint and takes a deep hit, the smoke wafting into the air over him.

"Hey!“ A dark voice reaches Castiel from out of the darkness. He squints at it and a figure steps into the light. Unlike Castiel, the stranger is dressed casually. He’s wearing plain jeans, a dark green shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Castiel might have taken him for a worker at the docks, but he‘s too pretty for that. As he comes closer, Castiel takes in his fine features and spots the freckles that cover most of the stranger’s face. Maybe he’s a marine who hasn’t changed into his uniform yet.

Castiel takes another hit from his joint, blowing the smoke away from the man. "Hey?“ he asks, prompting the newcomer to continue.

The stranger walks right up to him, almost leaning in. In the glow of the streetlamp above, his eyes glisten in bright forest green. "Can I ask you something?“

Castiel likes his voice. It’s deep, and smooth like velvet. "Of course.“

From one moment to the other, the stranger begins to fidget with the zipper of his jacket. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?“ he asks the floor, but then he forces himself to look at Castiel, “‘Cause you look like an angel.“

The words take a little time to reach Castiel’s brain, but when they do, he starts laughing. It’s probably the drugs, but he has to gasp for air and tears well in his eyes. The stranger watches him, not amused at all. Finally, Castiel gets his composure back. Holding a hand to his stomach, he sighs. "Wow, those passwords get more ridiculous every time. They really make you say that?“

The stranger pouts, and Castiel can only think of him as adorable. "I’m sorry,“ he says, holding up the joint as an excuse. "Yes, I’m an Angel, but I don‘t know you.“

"I’m Dean Smith.“ Dean holds out his hand to Castiel who takes it, a little bewildered. He can’t think of a single time where one of the minor Demons has offered his hand to him. They only touch to hurt. "And you are?“

"Jimmy,“ Castiel says, still holding on to Dean’s hand. It’s a little rough, but warm. Castiel likes the sensation.

 

 

"Jimmy?“ Dean stretches the name with his question, waiting for more.

Castiel smiles; a cocky half smile that Balthazar loves on him due to its track record for getting Castiel what he wants. "Are you going to ask for my number next?“

"No.“

"You did give me that line about falling from heaven.“

"They made me say that,“ Dean huffs, and with an irritated look, he pulls his hand away.

Castiel takes one last hit from his joint before holding it out to Dean. "People in this line of work don’t like questions.“

Dean snatches the joint from Castiel’s fingers and takes a hit. Most cops fuck up at this point by hesitating for a second. Castiel nods to the gate. "Let’s go.“

After snapping the joint into the street, Dean follows Castiel into the harbor. They walk past shipping containers and run down buildings, Dean breaking the silence. "What are we doing here anyway?“

"They really didn’t tell you anything?“

"Just that stupid line to meet my contact,“ Dean admits.

Castiel feels sorry for him. The Angels give shitty jobs to newcomers all the time, but they don‘t send them in blind. "There’ll be a boat on the docks, they give each of us a bag, and then we go home.“

"Alright,“ Dean says with a nod, and Castiel is glad he doesn’t ask about the contents of the bags. That’s a dead giveaway for either idiots or cops. "Still don’t understand why we’re working together on this,“ Dean says instead.

"Rowena doesn’t care where the money is coming from.“ Castiel nudges Dean with his shoulder to make him turn the next corner.

Dean raises his eyebrows at him. "Rowena?“

The staggering amount of questions that Dean has is suspicious, but he looks honestly confused. There’s no chance that an undercover cop wouldn’t know who Rowena is. After all, they get briefed to death on their targets.

"Rowena MacLeod, the leader of the Coven?“

"Coven?“ Dean asks with a hint of amusement. "What are they? Witches?“

Castiel suppresses a laugh. He’s beginning to like this Dean. He’s a welcome change of pace compared to all the guys who usually try to suck up to the leaders. "Just make sure you know her name if you ever meet her. Otherwise, she might claw your eyes out.“

Dean wants to reply, but Castiel touches his arm for a moment to keep him silent. They’re at their destination and it wouldn’t be wise to joke about Rowena in front of the Coveners.

As they approach the boat, three figures come into view. A small, dark-haired woman with two broad-shouldered gorillas flanking her. "Hm, look who we have here. Hey, Jimmy. I sure like you better than the beanpole you usually send.“

The woman steps forward, her eyes roaming up and down Castiel’s body. "Meg,“ he simply says.

"Keep talking,“ Meg teases. "You know that raspy voice of yours makes me all gooey.“ Castiel only raises his eyebrow at her and she focuses on Dean instead. "Who’s your pretty friend?“

"That’s Demon Dean,“ Castiel says, frightened that Dean might get the bright idea to shake her hand, too. She would never let him live that down. "He’s alright.“

Meg laughs, her voice getting a high pitch. "Did you hear that, boys? An Angel vouching for a Demon. What’s going on there?“ she says, pointing back and forth between them.

Dean glances over to Castiel, which is exactly the kind of thing that will make her think that there’s something between them unrelated to the deal. Castiel rolls his eyes at her. "Can we move this along? I don’t care to spend my whole evening here.“

Meg’s face turns sour. "Take note, Dean. He’s only there for you until another distraction comes along.“

For once, Dean does the right thing and only looks at her with a face made out of stone. Meg nods to her men and they step up on the dock and put two bags in front of Castiel and Dean. Castiel takes one and turns around on the spot. "See you next week, Angel!“ Meg shouts after him.

Castiel keeps walking, but after he turns a corner, he slows down. Dean catches up to him, a little out of breath. They cross half the harbor in silence, and Castiel begins to think that Dean ran out of questions, but then Dean clears his throat. "So… you and her?“

"What makes you think that?“ Castiel’s voice comes out harsher than intended.

Dean clears his throat again. "Sounded like an angry ex-girlfriend to me, is all.“

"We’ve been dealing with each other for years, nothing else.“ Somehow Castiel feels the need to make that very clear. "She’s not my type.“

"More into blonds, huh?“

Castiel has to hold in another laugh. He and Dean are what you might consider arch enemies. Doing this deal together doesn’t make them friends, but Dean surely treats him that way. Castiel stops under the nearest lamp, gesturing to Dean’s hair. "Yes, blond. Or light brown. What do you call this?“

The question has the intended effect. Dean blushes so furiously that his freckles become even more pronounced. He opens his mouth but is unable to speak.

"It’s Shurley,“ Castiel says, feeling sorry for him again. "Jimmy Shurley.“

Castiel walks on, not sure if Dean will follow him again. He’s almost through the gate when Dean catches up to him. He bumps his shoulder against Castiel’s. "Your number then.“

"What?“ Castiel asks, the laugh he tried to hold in finally getting free.

"You told me your name, might as well give me your number too.“

Dean smiles at him now, and a tingling feeling rises in Castiel’s stomach. "Maybe next week.“

"Oh come on. Don’t be a tease.“

Castiel stops. They’re back in the spot where they met. "No tease, just a realist. You’re a fresh Demon. Who knows if you make it till next week.“

"Oh, I will,“ Dean says. He’s leaning in again, his lovely eyes rooting Castiel to the spot. "Someone’s gotta protect you from Meg.“

"A Demon and a gentleman,“ Cas says. "You watch too many movies, Dean.“

"How about I drive you home then?“

Dean bites his lip and cocks his eyebrow at him. For a dangerous second, Castiel is tempted. Mixing work with pleasure is never a good idea, though, and Castiel’s sure that Dean could give him a lot of pleasure. "Drive me home in what?“

Dean nods his head to the side. Following the movement, Castiel spots a shiny black car that’s parked right at the curb. He grabs Dean by his jacket and pulls him in to whisper in his ear, "Word of advice, park further away next time. A car like that could easily disappear into one of those containers.“

Castiel lets go of Dean’s jacket and walks away, Dean grunting behind him. "You _are_ a tease!“

"Good night, Dean,“ Castiel says without turning around. He can’t take the risk. If Dean smiles at him again with those eyes, Castiel won’t be able to make himself leave.


	3. Milk Run

"Come in,“ Bobby grunts and Dean walks into his office. Since their initial meeting, he’s only been in Bobby’s office one other time. They want to make absolutely sure not to blow Dean’s cover, and frequent visits to the police station might raise some eyebrows.

Dean plops down on one of the chairs in front of Bobby’s desk. "Morning, Bobby.“

Bobby gives him a moment to just breathe, and Dean is thankful for it. He knew that being undercover wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t considered that he has to play his role at all times; not just at work hours. In this office, though, Dean can be himself again.

"How are you?“ Bobby asks. "You know we can pull you out anytime.“

Bobby sounds as if he’s hoping for that to happen, but Dean doesn’t plan on giving up. He’s been with the Demons for three months now, and yesterday, they finally gave him a reason not to walk out on them. Pulling up his sleeve, he shows Bobby the angry red mark they burnt into his skin. "Pull me out after they decided to truly take me in? Don’t think so.“

"That’s the same-" Bobby doesn’t finish the sentence. He stares at the mark until Dean pulls down his sleeve. He doesn’t have to say it. Dean's guessed that his dad got the same mark while he was undercover. "I didn’t know they were still doing that.“

"Seems they do if you don’t turn out to be a cop in the first few hours.“

Bobby shakes his head. Dean senses an unspoken sorry in the gesture. No matter when Dean will finish his assignment, he’ll have the mark forever. "So they trust you enough for now. Guess you could call that a win.“

"I think it’s time for me to step up.“

"Step up?“

Dean leans forward in his chair. He’s thought about this for days, and he won’t let Bobby talk him out of it. "The Demons might be loud and proud in public, but they have close ranks. In three months, I’ve seen the higher-ups exactly once by accident, and I can only name five lower ranked officers. They let me do my milk runs, and that’s it.“

"This ain’t a sprint, Dean. Of course they don’t just wave you through to Lucifer himself on your first day.“

"I know, but this isn’t going anywhere. I need to make myself valuable. Let’s give them an easier way to move their drugs, a good location for deals, something like that.“

Bobby looks at him as if Dean lost his mind in the last three seconds. "You want me to use police resources to make life easier for the criminals?“

"Just enough that some higher-ups might hear my name, you know? Give me a chance to prove myself with other things.“

With a long sigh, Bobby leans back, scrutinizing Dean. "Guess I hoped you would come to your senses. Instead, you talk crazy again.“

"I want to bring the Demons down, not waste years of my life playing their errand boy.“

Without thinking, Dean touches his arm where the mark is hidden under his sleeve. Bobby growls. "Alright, we’ll come up with something. Let’s hit those sons of bitches where it hurts.“

 

* * *

 

Bobby asked Dean if he had news of the Angels, but he said no. It’s not that he’s lying. Jimmy is a master at keeping valuable information to himself; only divulging to Dean information about music or food he likes. He’s also not into sports, and every week, he finds a way to keep his phone number to himself. Dean still has no idea in which part of town Jimmy lives.

On one hand, the weekly deals with Jimmy are the only thing Dean can look forward to. On the other hand, he feels guilty for liking the Angel so much. He might be a little fish, but he’s still a criminal. Every week, Jimmy carries a bag full of poison home to his masters. God knows what he does on each other day.

Dean brings bags and boxes from one place to the other, often not knowing what’s in them. One time, he had to drive a young man to an abandoned warehouse at the edge of town. They didn’t let Dean go inside, but he still remembers the screams, and after a while, they told him to go home. There was nobody left to drive.

The rest of the time, he collects protection money from the shops in Styx Valley and South Valentine. The locals call it the Lower Belt for a reason; it’s for the poor and desperate, and the Demons make him take away what little these people have. Dean hates the work, but the smallest slip could cost him his life. He doesn’t smile, and he doesn’t give the poor people even a hint that the hard times might be over soon.

Dean’s heart is heavy as he walks to the spot near the docks where he usually meets up with Jimmy. From afar, he can see the smoke cloud rise up in the dim light of the street lamp. Jimmy stands under it, leaning back, with one foot propped up against the wall that surrounds the harbor. His head is drawn back and he has his eyes closed while blowing smoke into the air. Dean knows that he won’t forget this sight as long as he lives and somehow, it lifts his spirits.

Even as Dean draws near, Jimmy doesn’t move an inch. In this place at dawn, this means one of two things. He either doesn’t care much for his life, or has balls the size of Heaven Manor. Dean leans against the wall next to Jimmy who turns to him, finally opening his eyes. "Hello, Dean.“

Dean can’t get used to the sight. Jimmy’s eyes are freakishly blue, no matter the light or time of day. They build a stark contrast to his dark unruly hair, both on his head and his strong jaw. While Jimmy always shows up in a suit, he doesn’t seem to care so much about shaving. Last week, he almost had the appearance of a teddy bear, his beard out of control. Today, Jimmy’s cleaned himself up, but there’s still a light scruff left over, giving Dean the crazy urge to touch it, find out if it’s scratchy or soft.

"Shall we?“ Dean asks nodding to the harbor gate.

Jimmy pushes himself away from the wall, dropping his joint, but he doesn’t walk past Dean. Instead, he looks him up and down, taking in the suit Dean’s wearing. "Trying to impress your bosses?“

"Maybe. Who wouldn’t mind a little raise?“

"Try hacking up a kid and feeding it to them,“ Jimmy says. "That should do it.“

Dean has never seen Jimmy like this. His eyes flare in the light as if he’s about to draw strength from some kinds of inner power. His voice is even deeper than usual, with a dangerous edge to it, his face a mask of anger. Dean stays where he is, even with his instincts screaming at him to move. He’d never thought of Jimmy as scary, but now he sees why they send him here every week. Anybody with half a brain would know better than to mess with him.

"Maybe I’m trying to impress somebody else,“ Dean says. He wonders if Jimmy has a reason to work for the Angels. Maybe it’s about getting back at the Demons. If that’s the case, he should try to talk Jimmy up, get out of him what he knows. "You did call me a gentleman once, thought I should look the part.“

Jimmy huffs a laugh, his anger evaporating like smoke. "Where’s your car?“

Dean grins. "Easy tiger, we have a job to do first.“

"What?“ For once, Jimmy looks taken aback, his cheeks sporting a little more color than usual. Then he shakes his head. "There’s no shipment tonight. We’ll be driving through the city, collecting some things.“

"Always the busy worker bee,“ Dean teases. "You should loosen up a little.“

"That’s what my brother keeps telling me.“ Jimmy says the words in a light tone, but then his eyes grow wide. It’s the first time he’s ever revealed something personal about himself.

Dean starts walking across the street as if he hadn’t even heard him. "This guy told me a while back to park farther away from the docks.“

Jimmy catches up to him. "Smart guy.“

"You don’t know the half of it,“ Dean smiles. "He’s hot, too.“

He doesn’t dare to look directly at Jimmy, but from the corner of his eye, he can see him smile. They both walk with their hands in their pockets as if to refrain from holding hands. Once in a while, their shoulders touch, but neither of them moves farther away.

Reaching Dean’s Impala, Jimmy runs a hand along its roof. It’s the first time Dean gets to know the sensation of being jealous of a car. "I hope your tail lights work. We’ll have to make a few stops and drive past Central.“

"Speed limit, no red lights, I get it.“ Dean opens the door for Jimmy. "And my tail lights are just fine.“

"You know what you’re doing, I’m impressed.“

Jimmy gets in the car. When he doesn’t reach for the door, Dean closes it for him, wondering if any other Demon would be so eager to be a chauffeur for an Angel. Rounding the car, Dean takes a deep breath. It’s one thing to do a deal at the docks, but another thing to ride around with a dangerous criminal.

Besides, Dean has to sit next to Jimmy in a confined space for who knows how long. He fully plans on using Jimmy’s flirty manner to his advantage, but sometimes he’s not quite sure where his acting ends, and a real interest starts. Last night, he even thought about setting Jimmy up as an informant. It’s risky, but if he can build enough trust, he might be able to flip him. He’d be a valuable asset.

_And he’d have to keep working with you_ , a little voice says in Dean’s head. He can’t deny that he likes Jimmy. Dean would love to see him go legit, and who knows what else could happen then. By the time Dean gets into the car, Jimmy already pulled out a box of cassette tapes from under the seat and looks through them. "See anything you like?“ Dean asks.

Jimmy looks over to him. "Yes, in fact, I do.“

He keeps staring at Dean instead of the tapes and Dean tries to hide his upcoming blush by starting the car and backing out of his parking spot. "Where are we going then?“

"Just head for the Lower Belt, I’ll let you know where to go next.“

Jimmy turns back to the tapes, fishing one out. He switches it with the one already in the player. Soon, Johnny Devlin’s voice fills the car, singing the worst possible song.

_"Hey, little angel,_  
_Hey, little angel…“_

"For a demon, you sure have a lot of music about angels,“ Jimmy says.

"Hey, I listened to that long before I came to Valentine.“

"Of course you did.“

Dean knows that Jimmy is baiting him, so he stays quiet. A little later, he wishes he didn’t. Usually, he loves that song, but with an Angel in the car, it takes on a whole different meaning.

_"Hey little angel, why do you hide_  
_Behind the clouds in the sky?_  
_The halo you're wearing is just a fake,_  
_Oh, you're a cheeky little devil in disguise._  
_Hey little angel, come on down,_  
_love me like you should,_  
_instead of flirtin‘ with the saints all day,_  
_I know you’re doing me no good._

_Hey little angel, I love you so,_  
_If I catch you, I won’t let go,_  
_I’ll clip your wings so you can’t fly away,_  
_we’ll be in heaven till our dying day.”_

The accuracy is unnerving, and Jimmy turns his whole body to Dean, watching him while he drives. "Would you clip my wings, Dean?“

"Don’t think so. You’ll probably get off on that.“

"Would that be such a bad thing?“ Jimmy raises an eyebrow at Dean.

With every word he says, he’s taunting Dean, so Dean decides to go on the offensive. "What are you asking me here? If I’d go full-on Romeo for you? Our love prevailing over the feud of our two families?“

It seems that Dean hit home somehow. Jimmy is staring at him open-mouthed, and it takes him a good few seconds to put his facade of being untouchable back on. "I was going for a little fun, but if you’re all in, who am I to refuse?“

"I’m not that easy,“ Dean says, feeling the need to push back. Jimmy gives him a big smile, making Dean feel like pray.

Then, Jimmy leans back in his seat as if there’s no better place for him to be than in Dean’s car. Dean begins to wonder why Jimmy is just a small fish who runs errands. He seems so sure of himself, every word he says planned, and every movement with a meaning behind it. He’d make a hell of a leader in Dean’s book.

They drive north for a while, listening to the music. Jimmy only breaks their silence to give Dean directions. At a small run-down house in the southeast of the Lower Belt, Jimmy tells Dean to stop. He reaches behind his back, drawing a gun. Dean can’t hide his surprise. He’s supposed to be able to spot weapons on a person but had no idea that Jimmy is carrying one.

"I’m not a big fan of guns, but this part of town isn’t Angel friendly,“ Jimmy says, getting out of the car.

Dean hurries to follow him, but only reaches the door of the house when Jimmy’s already inside. He’s standing in one of the dirtiest living rooms Dean has ever seen. Everything is cluttered with plates and bowls of decaying food. The floor is barely visible under old newspapers, take away containers, and other things Dean doesn’t recognize.

At the center of the mess, Jimmy stands in front of an old sofa, his weapon at the ready. On the sofa lies a guy who’s shirt is so dirty that Dean took him for part of the couch at first. He has a gun as well, but with the way he’s holding it, he’d be lucky not to shoot himself. "Hey, what the hell are you doing in my house?“

"I’m Blue,“ Jimmy says, nodding over to Dean, "and he’s Red. We’re here to collect Pandora’s box.“

"Nah man, that’s always on Thursday.“ The guy’s gun shakes in his hand as he’s pointing it at Jimmy. "You’re trying to play me.“

"It _is_ Thursday, you idiot,“ Dean says. He doesn’t like how the guy’s finger is coiled around the trigger while Jimmy doesn’t make the slightest attempt to get out of dodge.

"Tuesday, it’s Tuesday,“ the guy repeats. "Get out or I’ll shoot you!“

"With this?“ Jimmy asks, holding up his own gun.

The guy on the sofa looks back and forth between the two guns. Before he can work it out, Jimmy steps forward and snatches the gun out of his hand. He releases the magazine, pulls the slide back, ejecting the round in the barrel, and throws the weapon right into the mess to their feet. "Where’s our money, Troy?“

"There, first door,“ Troy says, pointing at an old wardrobe next to Dean, but keeps staring at Jimmy. The fact that Jimmy knows his name is throwing Troy off. He must be tripping off his ass to be that confused.

Dean walks over to the wardrobe and opens the topmost door. A second later, he throws it shut again, doing everything he can to not throw up right away. "Fuck, what is that? Smells like a cat died in there.”

"What have I told you about keeping our money in that filth?“ Jimmy asks Troy. His voice has that edge again. It makes Dean’s skin prickle.

"No no, wait,“ Troy says, and although Jimmy hasn’t moved, Troy’s face lost all color. "I moved it, alright? The drawer, check the drawer.“

Dean stays back as he opens the drawer. He has a feeling that rats or cockroaches might crawl out of it. Inside is a white shoebox which is probably the cleanest thing in the house. Dean lifts it out of the drawer and peeks inside. "Got money here.“

"Count it, please,“ Jimmy says, still watching Troy. "It should be two thousand, but it wouldn’t be the first time Troy came up short.“

Troy babbles reassurances and apologies while Dean counts the money. "All there.“

Jimmy puts his gun back into his pants, but he doesn’t look any less intimidating as he watches Troy out of narrow eyes. "We’ll be back in three weeks for the next payment.“

"But it’s usually five weeks,“ Troy says.

"It’s four for making us walk into this dump, and three for making my friend smell your dead animals. Objections?“

Dean’s heart skips a beat when Jimmy calls him his friend. Troy’s heart seems to have similar problems. He’s still white as a sheet and bows his head to Jimmy. "No no, three weeks. It’s cool man.“

Without another word, Jimmy walks outside. Dean follows him, dumping the box on the backseat. Under Jimmy’s orders, they make three more stops. One is another house with a skinny girl in it, who doesn’t bother taking the needle out of her arm when handing Jimmy an envelope. The next is a dead drop near a dumpster, and for the last one, they head for a narrow alley next to a tailor shop. Jimmy puts all the money in the envelope, and at the end of the alley, he hands it to an old woman who’s taking out the trash.

Dean gets a pretty good idea why the police have such a hard time putting any of the Angels or Demons behind bars. None of this makes sense, while all of the parties involved are seemingly unconnected. "One more stop,“ Jimmy says.

He takes the lead, and Dean wonders where they are going. Over the street lies the invisible border of Valentine Central. While the Angels might be ballsy enough to operate in the Upper Belt and the Heaven Heights, it would be stupid to do so in the heart of the city. The 1st Precinct is right around the corner.

Jimmy leads him into the opposite direction, though. He comes to a halt under a blue canopy that spans over the sidewalk with the words "Blue Heaven Ballroom“ written in silver letters at its front. "This isn’t part of the job,“ Jimmy says, his voice soft, not at all how he talked to the people they met today.

"Then what is it?“

"I’m secretive about my phone number, but if you want, you can spend some time with me right here.“

That’s the last thing Dean expected. His answer doesn’t come from a well thought out strategy as a cop, but from the butterflies taking flight in his stomach. Dean opens the door to hold it for Jimmy and smiles. "After you.“


	4. Blue Moon

Castiel hadn’t planned for this to happen. Today was supposed to be a normal Thursday. A little flirting with Dean, some jokes, a bit of light sprinkled into his dark days. The problem is that Dean never does what Castiel expects.

When Dean called himself Castiel’s Romeo, he pulled the rug out from under Castiel’s perfectly crafted persona of Jimmy Shurley. It is a fitting comparison after all. Angels and Demons don’t mingle, they don’t flirt, and they generally hate each other. Castiel likes Dean. And unless Dean is a brilliant actor, he likes Castiel, too.

Still, Castiel had only suggested that they spend time together so Dean could refuse. He could have brought back the balance. Instead, Dean not only tipped the scale in Castiel’s favor but took the damn thing and threw it out the window.

Stepping into the "Blue Heaven Ballroom“ with Dean on his heels feels like entering another reality. Castiel has always liked the place, and it’s the polar opposite of Gabe’s "Candyland.“ The music wafts over to the door, but it’s inviting rather than loud and obnoxious. Everything around has a touch of blue, aside from the silver candelabras on the walls and the huge chandelier over the dancefloor. Warm lights compliment the nicely dressed couples that sway to the music in front of the small stage in the corner.

Tonight‘s singer, Donna Hanscum, throws her long blonde hair over her shoulder, her sirene voice luring them in. Dean and Castiel follow the call, only stopping to be greeted by the maître d‘. "A table for two,“ Castiel says. Recognition flares in the man’s eyes. He knows that Castiel is an Angel. "If you have one. I fear we don’t have a reservation.“

Kali, the owner of the "Blue Heaven Ballroom“ prides herself on owning one of the few establishments in the city that doesn’t belong to either Demons or Angels. Both sides respect that it’s neutral ground, and as long as they don’t make trouble, Kali allows their presence.

The maître d‘ checks his book and smiles. "You’re in luck, Mr. Shurley. Please follow me.“

Castiel’s friendly approach pays off. They get a good table near the stage, and a waiter immediately rushes over to them to take their drink order. While Castiel reads the menu, Dean takes a look around. His whole demeanor betrays that he’s never been to a place like this. "I feel underdressed.“

"At least you don’t look like a lumberjack anymore.“ Dean makes a face at Castiel, hiding behind his menu, and Castiel adds, “Your suit is just fine. In here, they value decent behavior over anything else.“

"And money,“ Dean says, letting out a whistle. "Those are some hefty prizes.“

"I invited you, so I’ll pay.“

"As long as you don’t expect me to put out.“

Castiel laughs at Dean’s challenging tone. "Not at all. If you rip off that suit, I want you to do it because you can’t wait to have me, not because I paid for it.“

The music ends together with Castiel’s words, a heavy silence settling over them. Then the band plays Link Wray’s Rumble. Castiel doesn’t pay them any mind, looking at Dean instead.

The past few weeks they’ve been playing this game of chicken where one of them would hastily look away when the other catches them looking. Not this time. Dean stares right back at Castiel, his eyes flickering with something Castiel hasn’t noticed before. It’s dark but tempting. For the first time, Castiel thinks of him as a Demon; someone who does bad things. Castiel desperately wants Dean to do bad things to him.

"Can I take your order?“ a cheery voice says.

Their eye contact breaks when Dean and Castiel both look at their waiter. They place their orders, the tension between them gone. With another change of music, they go back to lighter topics of conversation; cars they like or current movies they haven’t seen yet.

Enjoying the food and Dean’s company, Castiel has more fun than he had in years. In his mind, he throws a big fat "Ha!“ in Gabriel’s face. The band plays another song that doesn’t require a singer, giving Donna the opportunity to walk around the tables and greet the guests. Smiling big, she comes over to them as soon as she spots Castiel. "Jimmy, darling, great to see you!“

She kisses his cheek and Castiel smiles back. "Donna, you look great. That dress is scandalous.“

"Oh, you’re a charmer, but I’ll take it.“ She pats his cheek and turns to Dean. "And who’s your friend? I don’t think I’ve seen him around.“

"Dean is new in town,“ Castiel says. Dean flashes Donna a dashing smile. The sight makes something roar inside of Castiel. "And I fear he’s very much off limits.“

"You can’t keep all the pretty ones for yourself,“ Donna pouts. She carefully lifts up Dean’s chin as if she can’t quite believe that a face like this exists.

Dean keeps smiling. "I’m sure we can have a good time if he messes up.“

"You betcha,“ Donna says. She releases Dean’s chin with a wink. Walking away, her hand trails over Castiel’s shoulder. "See you around, darling.“

Leaning to the side, Dean watches her leave, his eyes too close to the ground for him to look at anything else but her butt. "Nice lady.“

Castiel feels a sting in his chest, but he’s never been one to force his company on someone. "I’m sure I can get you backstage if you want to be properly introduced.“

"You’re giving up so easily?“ Dean asks, his eyes now focused on Castiel. "I thought I was off limits.“

"As you said, she’s a nice lady. You, on the other hand, are a Demon, and way too much trouble.“

Dean points a finger at himself as if outraged, but he still smiles. "And you think you can handle me?“

Castiel sighs. He liked to think so when they first met. Dean acts like a puppy without a clue, but he’s smart and cunning. Castiel has ears everywhere, and he knows what Dean does during the week. So far, he hasn’t batted an eye at anything the Demons asked of him. Dean is funny and soft, but there’s a dark side inside of him, a side that Castiel would very much like to see more of.

"I don’t think so. To be honest, I‘d rather have _you_ handle _me_.“

Dean’s smile widens, his tongue running along his teeth. The spark in his eyes is so profound that Castiel fears catching fire. A figure appearing next to them effectively douses the embers, however. "How are we doing over here? Is there anything else I can help you with?“

"Oh yes, there is,“ Dean says. He turns to the waiter, the spark still in his eyes, but it’s anything but playful. "You could give us a second.“

The waiter seems to realize that he came at a bad moment and gives a quick nod. "Of course. I’ll come back later.“

"I’m sure you will,“ Dean sighs and Castiel laughs.

"He does have bad timing.“

"God yes.“ Dean looks around the room and finally nods behind Castiel. "Why don’t we relocate to the bar? No waiter there.“

They find a nice spot at the end of the bar, and Castiel wishes they had this idea sooner. Two drinks in, Dean’s hands begin to wander. He either rubs the back of his neck or runs his hand through his hair, or he touches Castiel. One of Dean’s hands is constantly landing on Castiel’s shoulder, mainly the one Donna touched, as if Dean needs to erase her and leave his own mark. By the fourth drink, Dean rests his hand on Castiel’s thigh and feels the need to lean in close every time they talk.

Not that Castiel complains. He’s just as bad, the drinks taking their toll, even with Castiel’s high tolerance for alcohol. Dean leans in again, whispering to him, “Tell me a secret.”

“Like what?”

“Anything you want.”

Castiel knows that it’s only a silly request, something to make the night more interesting. It’s just that Castiel has secrets for a reason. There’s not much that won’t have dangerous consequences if it were to get out. Still, he feels like he wants to reveal something to Dean, bring them closer together. “You realize that I’ll have to kill you if you tell anybody?”

Dean nods. “I swear on my car that I won’t tell a soul.”

“Jimmy is not my real name.”

“Shocker,” Dean huffs. “I guessed that much.”

He looks disappointed and Castiel gives in. “It’s Cas. People who really know me, call me Cas.”

“Cas,” Dean says, sending a shiver down Castiel’s body. In Dean’s smooth voice, the word sounds like a prayer. “I like that better. You look like a Jimmy, but you _act_ like a Cas.”

Dean makes a show of using Cas’ name in every sentence now. As drink number five rolls around, Castiel is inches away from sitting in Dean’s lap. They keep staring at each other for way too long, and more often than not, lips are touching hot skin when they whisper into each other’s ears.

"You might want to slow it down,“ the barkeeper tells them as Dean attempts to order drink number six.

Dean shrugs his shoulders and turns to Castiel, pulling him in by his tie. "Are you a dancer?“ Castiel shakes his head. "Great, me neither.“

He pulls Castiel to the dance floor, and it takes a moment for them to sort out who’s going to lead. Since Castiel wanted to be handled, Dean declares himself the boss, moving Castiel around. They stumble their way through two songs before the music slows down. While the couples around them still maintain decent positions, Dean and Castiel completely disregard personal space.

Castiel is holding on to Dean’s neck, while Dean has his arms around Castiel‘s middle, squeezing so tightly that their bodies are pressed flush against each other. With each step, their thighs touch, and Dean’s leg rubs against Castiel’s groin with delicious friction. They move like one person to the beat of the music, Donna’s voice filling the air.

_"Fish in the sea you know how I feel...“_

Castiel catches Dean’s eye, eager to hold him there and wanting to get lost in the valley of green.

_"River running free you know how I feel...“_

Dean stares right back at Castiel; daring, wanting, almost pleading.

_"Blossom on the tree you know how I feel…“_

They both come closer, lips almost touching. Castiel feels Dean’s breath ghosting over his skin.

Demons and Angels usually don’t mingle.

_"It’s a new dawn…“_

Castiel wants this.

_"It’s a new day…“_

He deserves this.

_"It’s a new life…“_

With the life Castiel has to live, nobody can blame him if he takes something for himself.

_"For me…“_

Dean and Castiel both lean in with Dean’s fingers digging into Castiel’s sides. It feels like he might crush Castiel if they don’t do anything about the tension building up around them.

_"And I'm feeling good…“_

Castiel kisses Dean. It’s a rush he never felt before. The music still plays, but Castiel only hears the blood rushing through his veins. His body sings in tune with Dean’s, their hearts beating too fast. They claw at each other, desperate to get even closer. Their lips part for a few desperate breaths, but they keep kissing in a hot fever.

Dean’s lips are warm and soft. His tongue is rubbing against Castiel’s. He offers the forbidden fruit and Castiel tastes and tastes, eager to saturate himself for a lifetime.

Castiel isn’t sure how, but they move across the dance floor till his back hits a wall. He has nowhere to go when Dean ruts against him, hands on Castiel’s hips. And still, Castiel holds on to Dean, pulling him into him to make sure Dean won’t leave him.

_"And I’m feeling good…“_

It must be a real angel singing to them, making known that in this new world, Dean and Castiel make it up as they go, the rulebook forgotten.

"Excuse me, gentleman.“ The scandalized voice is near enough to drown Donna out. Dean and Castiel jolt as if hit by lightning. Next to them stand two men. Their waiter, with big shocked eyes, and another small, sturdy guy with glasses, unmistakably the manager. He’s red in the face and desperately gasping for air in between words. "We are not this kind of establishment. Either you behave in a civilized manner or I’ll have to remove you from the premises.“

A flash of anger runs through Castiel. The nerve of this guy. If he only knew who he’s talking to. Castiel respects Kali, but he won’t let anybody talk to him like this, especially in front of Dean.

"Of course, you’re right,“ Dean says before Castiel can speak. "You know how it is, the drink, the song, we just got carried away.“

The manager looks back and forth between the two of them. "This kind of behavior-"

"We absolutely understand,“ Dean interrupts him. "This is a respectable place. We’re very sorry, it won’t happen again.“

"Alright,“ the manager says, taking a long look at Castiel, making sure they’re all on the same page.

"Very sorry,“ Castiel repeats Dean’s words, hoping that he sounds genuine.

"Frank, let’s go,“ the manager orders, and their waiter trots after him like a dog.

"I didn’t expect that from you,“ Castiel says.

"Dude, it was either this or a blood bath. You should’ve seen the look on your face.“ When Castiel doesn’t deny his intention to hurt the manager, Dean huffs. "Hey, you’re an Angel. Don’t waste your time with this vermin.“

"You’re right,“ Castiel says, the anger subsiding. "What now?“

"I was thinking, maybe-" Dean pauses and looks around, checking that no other employees of the club can listen in on their conversation. "We don’t behave ourselves.“

He raises his eyebrows at Castiel, who grins. There’s the part of Dean that he likes to see. "Come on,“ he says, grabbing Dean’s hand.

They walk past the dance floor, hidden behind the people who are rocking out to quick music. Castiel leads Dean into a corridor, pulling him into the men’s bathroom. It’s empty except for one guy who’s washing his hands. They walk past him and head to the last stall at the end of the room. When they can hear the door closing behind the man, Castiel pushes Dean into the stall, locking the door behind them.

"Has anyone ever told you that you’re no angel at all?“ Dean asks.

"Many people.“ Castiel grabs Dean’s jacket, pulling him in for a kiss. They go at it as if there hasn’t been an interruption, just as heated and eager as before. While they lost track of their surroundings before, they now know exactly where they are. Nobody is watching, and they both make good use of that.

They keep their ties on, only loosening them enough to open the top buttons of their shirts. Dean is working on more buttons on Castiel’s shirt when the door to the bathroom opens again. They don’t pay it any mind. As soon as Dean manages to get the fabric out of the way, he runs his fingers down Castiel’s chest and stomach. As eager as they are, he might have gone deeper from there, but instead, he traces one spot.

Castiel wears his gang tattoo over his left hip bone. It’s the letter A in an intricate font inside a crowned broken heart, surrounded by wings. "Wow,“ Dean says, admiration in his voice, "that’s beautiful.“

Nobody has ever called it that. Even Castiel doesn’t like the tattoo very much. It‘s a reminder of bad things, but he’s an Angel, so he wears their symbol. Dean makes him forget what it stands for when he trails his fingers with his lips, kissing from Castiel's neck down to the tattoo and running his tongue over Castiel’s hip bone.

Castiel can’t help but moan, his fingers carding through Dean’s hair. Dean makes his way back up Castiel’s body to kiss him again, his hands busy with the fly of Castiel’s pants. He would have gotten it open a second later if it wasn’t for the rapid knock on the stall door. "Sir? Everything alright in there?“

Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel is torn between annoyance and amusement. Are they really being interrupted again? "Everything’s fine,“ he tells the door.

"Can you come out, please?“

"Him again?“ Dean mouths at Castiel, who nods. It’s unmistakably the manager.

"Just a second,“ Castiel grunts and they do their best to quickly get their clothes in order before opening the door.

The manager looks at them as if he just caught two kids secretly smoking at school. This time, the man next to him is as small as he is, his hair cemented to his head and perfectly parted. "Mitchel here heard moans,“ the manager says accusingly.

"Ties,“ Castiel says, the word shooting out of him.

"Excuse me?“

"I moaned because I was upset with my tie. Since you were so adamant about our behavior, we came back here to make sure we were looking presentable.“

The manager stares at him, clearly not believing a word. Although Castiel managed to button his shirt, he missed one button and his tie is hanging backward. Dean’s tie is still loose, his jacket almost hanging from one shoulder, and his hair horribly messed up.

"Your tie,“ the manager echoes. Mitchel looks over to him as if he’s never seen his boss at such a loss.

Castiel knows that Kali might never let him in here again, but since he can’t hurt the manager to put him in his place, he at least can have some fun with him. "Yes. The right tie is very important. It shouldn’t be too crooked, but not everybody can handle a long straight tie. Some prefer them shorter but thicker, for a better feel. We were about to put our hands on each other’s ties when you so rudely interrupted us.“

Castiel can see the manager's brain working, then his face becomes redder by the second. "Out,“ he gasps.

"How important is tie size to you?“ Castiel asks.

"I said out!“ the manager screams, making Mitchel jump next to him.

Dean grabs Castiel by the arm and pulls him along. Instead of heading to the front door, they take the back exit at a bit of a run. Only when they’re a good ways away do they stop and Dean bends over, supporting his weight by holding on to his knees. Castiel tries to check if he’s alright, but then Dean laughs. The sound echoes in the narrow alley until Dean gets up again. He’s breathing heavily, tears in his eyes.

"How important is tie size to you?“ he gasps in between giggles. With a sigh, he throws an arm around Castiel’s shoulder, dragging him along. "It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard. It’s been more than a long time – years.“

Enjoying the press of Dean’s body against his own, Castiel smiles. "I’m glad I was able to amuse you, but I don’t think I can ever go back there again.“

"Worth it. Absolutely worth it,“ Dean says, patting Castiel’s chest with his free hand. "Where to now?“

Castiel puts his arm around Dean, holding on to his jacket. He wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while. "My place is high up in the Heaven Heights. So, either you show me your apartment, or we find someplace else.“

"My apartment, huh?“

"Only if you want to.“

Dean watches Castiel for a moment, making up his mind. Then he leans in for a kiss. Castiel has no idea what that one was for, but Dean starts walking. "Come on.“

At first, they stroll through the night in silence, but as the houses allow a clear view into the sky, Dean peppers in some crudely sung lines of a song Castiel doesn’t know. "There’s a moon out tonight, whoa oh oh oh…“

"What are you singing?“ Castiel asks.

Dean answers with another kiss. They move on like this, past bars and late open shops. The few people still out on the street either shake their heads or give them big smiles. Like love drunk idiots, they lean against any durable surface to kiss again. Once, they pause in front of a diner, the occupants soon wolf whistling at them. Laughing, they move on until Dean pulls Castiel into a side alley and up some stairs.

"It’s not exactly a palace,“ he says, fumbling out his keys.

Castiel presses himself against Dean from behind, leaving feathery kisses along his neck. "Dean, I’m ready to do it right here.“

Dean laughs and turns around to lead him through the door. "I can do better than that.“

Following him into the dark, Castiel’s whole body tingles. All his life, he followed the rules and only lived for his family. Tonight, he leaves all that behind – for Dean.


	5. Red and Blue

Dean puts on the dim lights in his apartment, glad that his undercover rules include not to have things lying around that could out him. While he usually likes to take notes, he hasn’t written down a single thing. His apartment is only a sad bachelor’s pad now. "As I said, it’s not much.“

"You could do with some curtains,“ Cas says, looking out into the night through the two big windows along the side of the room.

"Yeah well, I usually sleep when it’s dark outside.“ Cas keeps looking around, giving Dean the feeling that he needs to busy himself until Cas has finished. "You want a drink?“

"Sure.“

Dean shuffles into one corner of the L-shaped room where he has something resembling a kitchen. He pulls out two glasses, making sure that they’re spotless, and pours them some whiskey. Coming back to Cas, he finds him sitting next to a box with his records.

"Thanks,“ Cas says when Dean hands him his glass. He takes a sip and returns his attention to the box. "You have a nice collection.“

"Music is-“ Dean begins, searching for the right word while hastily drinking from his own glass. "Important.“

"I almost expected to find a guitar in here.“

Dean laughs. "No. I don’t play, and I sure can’t sing.“

"Oh, I wouldn’t say that.“ Cas grins. He’s getting to his feet with a record in his hand. The second he puts it on, Dean knows what it is.

_"There’s a moon out tonight whoa-oh-oh ooh…“_

Cas makes his way over to Dean, swaying with the music. Dean shakes his head but puts his drink aside to take Cas‘ hands. "Come on, sing for me again,“ Cas says. Like the fool he is, Dean does.

They keep dancing until they get to a line that barely makes it out of Dean’s mouth. "Oh darlin', where have you been? I‘ve been longin' for you all my life…“

Dean lets the Capris take over from here and kisses Cas. Although they keep moving, the music doesn’t matter much anymore. Dean has never had this happen before. Every time their lips meet, the world around them becomes blurry; no longer important. All Dean focuses on is Cas. His warm body against his own, his soft lips, his breath against Dean’s skin, the touch of his hands.

"Maybe-“ Cas says, leaning away to look at Dean, "We should take this to the bedroom.“

"Yeah,“ Dean can’t help that it doesn’t sound excited at all.

"No?”

Dean lets go of Cas and looks over to a heavy curtain that hides the last room in his apartment. "It just might look a little odd-"

He can’t finish his explanation. Cas follows his gaze and moves over to the curtain, pulling it open. "Wow,“ he gasps. "You sure have your priorities set.“

Compared to the rest of his apartment, Dean’s bedroom is an oasis. The bed takes up almost all the space, with nice blankets and more pillows than needed. A narrow ledge runs along the outer wall, candles lined up to hide the copper pipes running along the wall. A gift from Sam when Dean moved in, a plant with vibrant red blooms, sits in the corner.

"Look, I was piss poor when I came to town,“ Dean explains, running his hand through his hair. "I couldn’t exactly furnish the whole place.” Cas toes out of his shoes while Dean keeps rambling. "It’s not like I’m home a lot except for sleeping, so when I got some money together, I bought the bed.“

"I get it,“ Cas says, taking off his jacket and throwing it on a chair in the corner.

"Good, because I-" Dean stops talking, attention being snatched by Cas as he undoes the buttons on his shirt. "What are you doing?“

Cas stretches out his arms, his naked chest showing under the shirt, barely hidden behind his screwed up tie. "This.“ He falls backward and lands on the bed with a soft thud. "Are you coming, or do I need to take care of myself?“

Dean kicks his shoes off and takes off his jacket. Together with his tie, he throws it over the chair as he walks to the bed. He lets himself fall down, his hands landing next to Cas‘ face, bracketing his body. For a long moment, they stare at each other.

 

Dean has always thought that this kind of behavior is stupid, never understanding it when he watched movies or saw couples in real life; completely enchanted. Now he gets it. Getting lost in the blue of Cas’ eyes is like jumping into a lake without checking the depth first. It’s frightening and takes his breath away, but when Cas looks back, Dean comes to the surface, everything bad washed away, and nothing left but clean air to fill his lungs.

Dean bends down to kiss Cas, lips barely touching at first, but soon they start to nibble and lick at each other. Cas moves his hips, grinding against Dean’s thigh between his legs. Dean leans into it. He kisses along Cas‘ neck and down to his chest, feeling Cas‘ cock pressing against his leg through the thin fabric of his pants.

Cas gets more and more restless under him and finally pushes Dean away to get him back in front of the bed. As soon as Dean is standing, Cas sits up and puts his hands on Dean’s fly. Dean shrugs out of his shirt, making Cas stop what he’s doing. His eyes fall on the mark on Dean’s arm. “So, you’re one of their knights then.”

“Guess so.”

For a moment, Dean fears that Cas might come to his senses, remembering who he is and what Dean is. “It’s barbaric, that brand.”

“Don’t you do the same?” Dean nods to Cas’ tattoo.

“No,” Cas says, anger in his voice. “We allow people to become part of the family. If you want to carry that on your body, it’s your choice. We don’t brand you like cattle.”

Dean’s not sure what to say. He hates the mark just as much, but it’s a necessary evil. Cas reaches for his arm, his fingers trailing over the reddened skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Burnt like hell at first, but it’s getting better now.”

Cas leans forward, kissing the mark. Warmth spreads through Dean’s body. He’s not even a real Demon, but Cas’ acceptance means a lot. “Hey, come on. I’m not dying.”

 

“No more interruptions then.” While Cas opens Dean’s pants, Dean lifts Cas‘ tie over his head, throwing it somewhere into the bed. Next, he tries to pull Cas‘ shirt down his arms, but it gets stuck, pinning them to his sides. They both laugh, but when Dean reaches for Cas‘ arm to get him out, Cas shakes his head, nodding to Dean’s fly. "Just leave it and keep going.“

"You want to-?“ Heat shoots through Dean’s body, the words stuck in his throat when Cas looks up to him.

"Come on, show me your tie!“

Cas can’t move and is sitting under Dean, but he still gives orders as if Dean has to obey him, no matter what. Dean never thought he’d have a thing for that, but he doesn’t hesitate and drops both his pants and underwear in a heartbeat. Cas‘ takes his time letting his eyes roam from Dean’s face over his chest and to his stomach. As his gaze reaches Dean’s dick, he has the nerve to lick his lips.

"Closer,“ he orders. His voice has that same commanding tone that he used on the poor sobs they visited today.

Dean wishes he had more self-restraint, but just as they handed over the money, Dean steps closer to the bed. He positions himself in front of Cas as if to present a new sword to the king. Cas accepts it by leaning in and rubbing his cheek against Dean’s cock to move it to the side. He bends over, licking at Dean’s balls like a freaking cat. Surprised, Dean reaches for Cas‘ shoulder. Cas stops at the touch, so Dean whispers, "No no no, keep going.“

Cas does. He works his way up and down Dean’s length, using his tongue and sloppy kisses to get Dean as wet as possible. Dean still has his hand on Cas‘ shoulder. His fingers dig into the skin as Cas looks up to him through his thick lashes, finally taking Dean’s dick into his mouth. Since Dean hasn’t shown any restraint so far, he just gives up. Grunting and moaning, he cards his free hand through Cas‘ hair and lets it rest there, Cas‘ head bobbing up and down.

Every time Dean thinks he might be able to follow the rhythm, Cas changes gears. He alternates between teasing with his tongue and right out sucking Dean off, edging Dean closer and closer to an orgasm. Dean moves his hand from Cas‘ head to his other shoulder, holding on for dear life. He tips his head back, gasping for air. "Cas, wait,“ he pants, "so close.“

 

Cas leans back, his mouth letting go of Dean with a wet pop. "Fuck,“ Dean curses as the sensation flees. He breathes heavily, looking down at Cas.

"You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?“ Cas peels his shirt from his body with no trouble at all, wiping his mouth as if he just had a great meal.

"You devious little devil,” Dean says. Cas crawls backward on the bed, but can’t escape Dean who follows him on the spot. "Let’s see your tie then.“

He opens Cas‘ pants and Cas lifts his hips so Dean can pull his clothes off. A second later, Dean presses his lips together, holding his breath.

"Not a good moment to laugh,“ Cas warns him.

Dean shakes his head. "I’m sorry. I just remembered that manager. What do you think he would say to this?“

Running his fingers down Cas‘ stomach, Dean comes closer and closer to Cas‘ cock.

"I didn’t pay for the meal.“ Cas blurts out.

They are staring at each other until Dean says, "Wow, you really are a hardened criminal.“

They both laugh, tears in their eyes. "I thought we agreed on no more interruptions,“ Cas grunts.

Dean runs his fingers further down Cas‘ body, palming his cock. "You mentioned the meal.“

"You started with the manager,“ Cas says breathlessly, grinding against Dean’s hand.

"Sorry.“ Dean bends down to kiss Cas. "Let me just say, I’m very impressed by your tie.“

"Good.“ Cas holds on to Dean’s neck, catching his eye. He has that look again, demanding obedience. "Now, I need you to fuck me, Dean, and you better fuck me good.“

 

"Oh, I will,“ Dean says. He gives Cas another kiss, sealing the deal. Then, he reaches for the tie that he carelessly threw on the bed. Dean pulls it over Cas‘ wrist and lifts his arm over his head. He’s not sure if Cas trusts him enough to do this, so he waits. Cas doesn’t hesitate at all. He lifts his other arm over his head and lets Dean tie him up.

With Cas so nicely wrapped up, Dean dives to his nightstand. He gets out a small jar of Vaseline and crawls back to Cas. They don’t bother with any more foreplay. Dean generously applies the Vaseline to Cas‘ hole, teasing him a little. It gives Dean enormous pleasure to watch Cas move under him, rocking back and forth.

Then Dean slicks up his cock as well and positions himself. He lifts up Cas‘ legs to rest his knees under his thighs, slowly pushing in. "Good?“

 

"Perfect,“ Cas sighs.

Dean lets Cas take the lead first. His slow grinding gives their bodies a chance to get to know each other. Dean trails every part of Cas he can reach with his fingers, making him more and more restless. Cas is breathing heavily, moaning whenever Dean hits a good spot. He reaches for Dean, who bends over him so they can kiss. "I need more, Dean,“ Cas whines.

 

"Fine, you’re asking for it.“ Dean moves back and grabs Cas‘ hips. "Turn around.“

With Cas‘ hands still tied, it takes a little effort, but he manages to turn around. On all fours, he props himself up on his arms. His ass is a little higher up, in perfect reach for Dean, who slides into him again. This time, Dean goes hard from the beginning. His fingers dig into Cas‘ hips, burying his dick deep with every thrust. Cas pushes back, eager and restless. Moans and little cries escape him, urging Dean to use even more force.

He runs his hand over Cas‘ back to his head, grabbing a fistful of hair. As he tugs, Cas bends into a beautiful arch, unable to move much. Dean relishes in the feeling of being in control like this. "Is that what you wanted, little Angel? A Demon cock deep in your hot, needy ass?“

Cas’ body trembles, but he doesn’t attempt to escape. Instead, he leans into Dean’s grip. "Fuck, yes. I need it so bad, Dean.“

 

Dean keeps thrusting into him, his hand letting go of Cas’ hair so he can hold onto his hips again. Cas bends his head down, using the position to push back again. It seems he can’t get enough, but Dean fears he might actually hurt him if they do more than this. Cas still begs for it, "Harder, Dean. Come on.“

It’s still Dean who’s in control, though. He slows down, making Cas whine in frustration. "No, don’t stop.“

Dean leans forward and tugs the tie free from around Cas’ wrists. He hugs Cas around the middle, pulling them both up and resting back on his heels. He holds Cas close from behind, kissing his neck up to his ear. "Let go, Cas. I’ve got you.“

 

With Dean’s hand on Cas‘ chest, he can feel the rapid beating of his heart, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. Dean keeps kissing his neck, his hands running all over Cas‘ body. "Let go,“ he murmurs into Cas‘ skin.

Cas‘ body loses some of its tension, falling heavy against Dean. While he holds Cas against his chest, Dean reaches around to stroke Cas‘ cock. "Dean,“ Cas pleads, and Dean moves again, sliding his whole length in and out of Cas, as slowly as he possibly can.

They keep going like this for what seems like an eternity. It’s rising heat, heavy breathing, and needy whispers. They’re drenched in sweat, both exhausted by the position, but too enthralled to give it up. Dean begins to go faster again, Cas arching his back to welcome every thrust. His arms are pressing heavily against the back of Dean’s neck, his head back and resting on Dean’s shoulder, his cries of pleasure are filling the room.

Dean nibbles on Cas‘ ear, his fist tight around Cas‘ dick. "You wanna come for me, angel?“

"God yes,“ Cas groans. He pushes into Dean’s hand before eagerly falling back onto his dick.

"You feel so good around me, Cas. So hot, so tight.” The more Dean talks, the more Cas loses control. His moans sound almost painful, without much strength left, and Dean has mercy on him. "Come for me, sweet angel, come.“

Cas’ body goes rigid, his hands balling into fists behind Dean’s neck. "Fuck, _Dean_!“

Dean has never heard his name like this. In Cas‘ hoarse voice it’s a curse and an endearment at the same time. He holds on to Cas as if he wants to crush him, thrusting into the tight heat. Cas‘ cock is pulsing in Dean’s hand, come leaking out, coating Dean’s fingers.

Bending his head, Dean bites Cas‘ shoulder, stifling his own cry as he comes inside of Cas, the muscles squeezing tight, milking him dry.

It’s quiet then. They catch their breath, bodies relaxed and limp. Dean has the sense to pull down Cas‘ arms. He massages Cas‘ wrists where the tie had been wrapped around them. "You good?“ he asks, kissing the spot where he bit Cas.

"Yes,“ Cas rumbles, "more than good.“

Dean keeps kissing Cas‘ neck. He likes the salty taste of his skin. "So I fucked you good?“

Cas laughs, his body shaking. "Yes, you could say that.“

Dean carefully slides out of Cas, stretching his hand where Cas‘ come begins to dry on his skin. "I think we need a shower.“

Cas turns his head to steal a kiss from Dean. "Do you have good water pressure?“

"The best.“ Dean grins. "Aside from the bed, it’s the best thing about the apartment.“

"Good,“ Cas finally makes an attempt to move by dropping to all fours. "Because we really messed up your sheets.“

Dean sits back to stretch out his legs, his joints stiff. "Don’t worry about that. Happens all the time.“

Cas turns around and lets his feet hang over the edge of the bed. "You get much company in here?“

He doesn’t look at Dean as he speaks. It makes Dean wonder if Cas is actually jealous, the thought making his heart leap. "No, not that. I’m just very good on my own.“

"You’re very good with company, too.“

"Very good, huh?“

"Very, very good. Great.“ Cas turns around, smiling. "Exceptional. Marvelous.“

"Cas-"

"Awesome. Incredible. Breathtaking.“ Crawling over the bed to Dean, Cas keeps going. "Magnificent. Remarkable. Spectacular.“

"Shut up, you sex-crazed dork.“

Cas only grins. "Sublime-"

Dean shuts him up with a kiss. "Let’s grab that shower before I have to teach you some manners.“

Dean suspects more sexy tomfoolery when they’re in the shower, but aside from long kisses and caressing each other’s bodies, they manage to behave themselves. All fresh and warm, they both have a glass of water in the kitchen. Dean contemplates asking Cas to stay, but he doesn’t need to. Cas heads straight back to bed. He throws the dirty blanket carelessly onto the floor, crawling under the remaining one.

After Dean started the record player again, he follows him. “There’s a moon out tonight” fills the air as Cas pulls Dean in, closing his arms around him. "Thank you.“

Dean’s not sure what for, but there’s so much heart in Cas voice that he doesn’t want to spoil the moment by asking. Instead, he does his best to stifle a laugh. He’s getting spooned by an Angel, one of the worst kind of criminal in the city, but for the first time since his undercover assignment started, he feels safe.

 


	6. Business Unusual

Castiel wakes up with his arms still around Dean, their bodies pressed against each other. Burying his face in Dean’s neck, Castiel breathes in his scent. It’s been years since he felt so comfortable and peaceful. Lying in a shitty apartment in one of the shabbier parts of town, he’s happier than he’s ever been in Heaven Manor.

It still has to end though.

The sun begins to rise, the first beams coming in through the big windows in the other room. In the twilight, Castiel carefully pulls out his arm from under Dean. He looks lovely like this. Dean’s head is half hidden in the pillow, his short hair pointing in every possible direction. His mouth is slightly open, breath ghosting over his full lips. Castiel touches his own, remembering each and every kiss from last night.

 

Then his eyes fall on the mark on Dean’s arm. Castiel wishes it wasn’t there. All this time, Dean didn’t seem particularly loyal to the Demons, and deep in his mind, Castiel had considered turning Dean; making him one of his own. Doing so would be harder than Castiel had anticipated if Dean had truly become a Demon.

It’s one more reason for Castiel to go, but as his naked feet hit the cold floor, he finds that he doesn’t want to. Logic dictates that Dean and Castiel have no future together. Something like last night can’t happen again. Still, unless Castiel gives up the Coven detail, he’ll see Dean again. So he at least has to say goodbye for now.

Castiel crawls over to Dean, nuzzling his face against his jaw. "Dean, wake up.“ Dean reaches for Castiel, pulling him closer. "No, Dean, I have to go.“

Slowly, Dean blinks his eyes open. Then he smiles. "Morning sunshine.“

Castiel's heart aches as if someone reached inside his body and crushed it. He leans in and kisses Dean, desperate to soothe that pain at least one last time. When he pulls back, Dean reaches up and cards his hands through Castiel's hair. "Why are you up so early?“

"The sun is coming up. I have to go.“

"No, you don’t.“ Dean grabs Castiel and pulls him on top of him, his arms around his body in a tight grip.

"It’s bad enough that I’m still here. We shouldn’t exactly be seen together.“

"Nobody here but you and me,“ Dean says. He keeps looking at Castiel without a care in the world.

How can he not be troubled by this? It’s one thing to work together on a deal, but hanging out with the other side doesn’t look good. Being labeled as a traitor is a sure way of getting killed. "You don’t worry that your Demon friends might get wind of this?“

"You are more of a friend to me than any of them.“ Dean traces a line from Castiel's temple to his jaw as if he needs to burn Castiel's face into his memory. "I don’t give a shit what they think.“

"That’s dangerous.“

"You are dangerous. Or better, addictive.“ Dean grins and puts his hands under the blanket. He grabs Castiel's ass and holds him in place, grinding against him. "I had a great dream. I woke up and you were there, butt naked. You crawled on top of me and we kissed, and you kept moving those lovely hips. Your dick rubbed against mine and-"

"Dean,“ Castiel protests. Dean’s doing exactly what he’s describing and Castiel can feel him hot and heavy between his legs. If he doesn’t go right now, he won’t be able to make himself leave at all.

Dean takes his hands away, resting them behind his head. "You can get up and leave, or you can ride me as long and hard as you want. The choice is yours, nobody else’s.“

Yesterday, Castiel chose Dean. The damage is already done. It makes no sense to back away now, and Dean’s suggestion sounds a lot better than any alternative. With a sigh, Castiel crawls over to the nightstand, grabbing the Vaseline.

Dean’s grin is so broad that Castiel shoots him a dirty look. "Shut up and make yourself useful.“

"Your wish is my command.“ Dean focuses on kissing Castiel and caressing his body while Castiel preps himself.

When Castiel feels ready, he pushes Dean back to crawl on top of him. Assisted by Dean, he lowers himself onto Dean’s cock, enjoying the slow stretch and the feeling of being full. Then he leans forward and looks at Dean, moving his hips an inch at a time.

"You sure like to stare at me, don’t you?“ Dean teases.

"And you return the favor every time.“

Dean runs his hand through Castiel's hair and along his cheek with a smile. "That’s because you’re devastatingly handsome.“

"And you are a barely contained manifestation of the divine.“

"Cas-" Dean blushes, exactly as Castiel wanted.

"I love these,“ Castiel says, "You know what they say about freckles? They’re angel kisses.“

He covers Dean’s face with feathery kisses until Dean pushes him away, laughing. "Would you stop? You’re supposed to be a hardened criminal.“

"I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,“ Castiel says, the words tumbling out of him. "It’s nice.“

Dean doesn’t laugh again. He gives Castiel such a soft smile that every bit of hatred, self-loathing, and sadness inside of Castiel evaporates. He knows it will be back, but for now, he’s content, and he can see that Dean understands. He puts his hand on Castiel's neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

Castiel can’t remember if anybody has ever been so gentle with him. He melts against Dean, almost as if he wants to hide inside of him. Dean puts his arms around him, holding him as Castiel rolls his hips. This time is not about sex, it’s about being close, feeling another person, and the freedom of being vulnerable.

"Guess I would clip your wings, huh?“ Dean whispers against Castiel's lips.

Castiel thinks about the song they listened to.

_"I’ll clip your wings so you can’t fly away,  
we’ll be in heaven till our dying day.“_

Does Dean really feel this way? Is he afraid of Castiel leaving? They’re here now because Dean wanted him to stay, because Castiel didn’t have the heart to leave in the first place. Dean wouldn’t have to clip Castiel's wings, he’d fall for Dean well before that. Maybe he already has.

Castiel wishes he could say that. Instead, he buries his head against Dean’s neck with a sigh. Dean runs his palms up and down Castiel's back, caressing every inch of him that he can reach. With goosebumps erupting all over his body, Castiel begins to move in earnest. Still, he keeps as close as possible to Dean, his cock caught between them. At times, it’s almost too much, but nothing can bring Castiel to part from Dean.

Dean moves with Castiel, letting him take whatever he needs. It’s not enough, though. Castiel wishes he could take Dean with him, not let him stay here, in the lower parts of town, near the scum of the city. Castiel holds on to Dean, his hand on top of the mark on his arm. It won’t erase it, but at least he doesn’t have to see it. Dean catches his eye. "You really hate this,“ he says, flexing his arm under Castiel's hand.

"I hate what it stands for.“ Castiel doesn’t know why he’s admitting these things. Looking into Dean’s eyes makes it harder and harder to keep secrets. So he kisses Dean, focusing on what they’re doing. Castiel tries to say with his body what he can’t put into words. He’s pressed against Dean as if he wants to leave his scent on him, conquer all of his body, and let nobody else near.

Dean moves his hands down Castiel's sides before holding on to his hips. His thumb runs along Castiel's hip bone, close to his Angel tattoo. "Make me yours then,“ he says in between kisses.

Something deep inside of Castiel roars. He doesn’t have much interest in worldly possessions, so it feels odd to be so possessive about a person all of a sudden. Pushing himself down on Dean’s cock, Castiel kisses along Dean’s neck, remembering what Dean did to him last night. He ghosts over Dean’s skin with his teeth, and Dean shudders. "More,“ he moans and Castiel sucks on the skin behind his ear.

 

Dean’s fingers dig into Castiel's hips, urging him to go faster. His moans grow louder, his head tilted back to give Castiel access. Castiel keeps sucking on his skin, leaving a dark red mark. He pushes himself up and enjoys the view, the red spot making a stark contrast to Dean’s skin. It should be impossible for him to hide it. The sight of it turns Castiel on way more than he thought possible. Grinding up and down on Dean’s dick, Castiel starts stroking himself, Dean’s eyes focused on Castiel's cock.

"Yes,“ Dean pants, "come on. Mark me.“

Dean’s words push Castiel over the edge. Propped up on one arm, he leans over Dean. His come shoots out of him in spurts, covering Dean’s chest and stomach.

"Fuck, so hot.“ Dean pulls Castiel back on top of him, his hands reaching for Castiel's ass. He glides out of him, but keeps him close to grind against him. While Castiel keeps still, busy with catching his breath, Dean keeps thrusting, his dick caught between them. All Castiel can do is kiss along Dean’s neck again. He runs his tongue over the mark he just left and Dean’s hips stutter. He throws his head back, pushing a few more times until he comes with a silent cry.

They’re pressed against each other, not moving until they come down from their high. Then they kiss again. Castiel can’t tell for how long. He only knows that even now he still doesn’t want to go. Dean carefully pushes him up, looking down on them. "I think we need another shower.“

"At least we spared your sheets this time.“

Dean laughs. "Very appreciated.“

Castiel lets himself get dragged into the shower by Dean. This time, Dean gets cleaned up quickly before leaving, telling Castiel to enjoy the hot water for a while. Castiel almost boils his skin off doing so, but the water runs down his shoulders as if a water spirit is massaging him. It’s hard to walk away from that.

Out of the shower, he quickly towels himself down before walking back into the bedroom. Dean isn’t there but sounds are coming from the other room. Castiel dresses but leaves the tie and jacket. As he turns the corner, Dean is standing in his tiny kitchen, only wearing the pants of his suit. He’s flipping a pancake, and over the sizzling of the batter in the pan, Castiel can hear him sing, his voice barely audible. "Hey little angel, hey little angel.“

Castiel's heart leaps and in that exact moment, he knows he’s done for. He was so busy telling himself that all of this can’t be that he completely missed how head over heels he is for Dean. He’s way past the point of no return.

It should frighten him, but it’s hard to watch Dean buzzing around in the kitchen and to feel sorry for yourself at the same time. Instead, Castiel walks up to Dean. "Dean-"

"God!“ Dean jumps with a curse. "Don’t do that!“

"My apologies,“ Castiel says, putting his arms around Dean and kissing his neck.

Dean leans into it for a moment, but then he curses again. "I’ve got to get that pancake. Here, sit down.“

Dean taps the counter before getting to work with the pan. Castiel takes a look around and in absence of a chair, he pulls himself up on the counter. When the next pancake is underway, Dean holds out a big mug to Castiel. "Coffee?“

Castiel takes it. It’s still steaming, but he takes a big sip and moans with delight when it burns down his throat.

"Wow, you do like your coffee.“ Dean is preparing a plate for him but stopped to watch Castiel drink.

"Most important meal of the day.“

Dean sets down the plate next to Castiel. It has a pile of pancakes, fresh berries, and a pool of syrup. "Hope you’re hungry.“

Castiel's heart swells at the sight. They have a cook at Heaven Manor and Castiel can eat anything he wants at all hours of the day, but that’s worth nothing compared to this. Nobody has ever taken the time to cook breakfast for Castiel, not even his mother. Castiel reaches for Dean, trying to convey his gratitude with a kiss.

"Not that kind of hungry,“ Dean jokes. He dips a piece of pancake into the syrup and holds it up to Castiel's mouth. "Come on, try it.“

It feels like eating a piece of heaven. Castiel moans and sighs his way through breakfast, making Dean blush again by complimenting his fabulous cooking. They take their sweet time feeding each other and Castiel allows himself a second cup of coffee before the clock finally runs out.

 

Since Castiel left his gun in Dean’s car before their last stop, they walk back to the Impala together. The sun is coming up bright and warm, promising another day of unbearable heat. Unlike the night before, Dean and Castiel stay away from each other. They barely talk, but Castiel doesn’t mind. Just walking beside Dean is nice and after what happened, he’s sure that last night won’t be a one-time thing.

At the car, Castiel gets out the gun and quickly hides it under his jacket. "See you next Thursday then.“

"Sure you don’t want a lift?“ Dean asks, leaning against the Impala.

"Right, you just drive up to Heaven Manor and show them your mark. That should turn some heads.“

"Why not?“ Dean grins. "I’m bringing back their hottest angel. That should be worth something.“

Castiel rolls his eyes, but a wave of affection washes over him and he throws caution to the wind. He grabs Dean by the jacket and kisses him again. It’s slow and soft, something to remember before they can do it again. "Thank you for breakfast.“

"I can whip up an awesome lunch,“ Dean says. By his voice, Castiel can tell that he means it.

The thought of spending the whole day with Dean is tempting, but Castiel is already in trouble. Surely, his brothers are already wondering where he is. So instead of giving in, Castiel has another idea. "Do you have a pen?“

Dean furrows his brows but leans into the Impala to fish a pen out of the glove compartment. Castiel takes it and pushes Dean’s palm open. It takes a little effort, but he writes down a phone number. "Whoever picks up, ask for Jimmy. Tell them you have the box.“

"You could have told me from the start that this is what it takes to get your number.“

"But where would have been the fun in that?“ Castiel puts a hand to Dean’s cheek, saturating his need to touch him one last time. "Call me.“

Dean’s eyes shine brighter than the sun. "Oh, I will.“

 

* * *

 

Castiel's head is still spinning by the time he enters the Throne Room. Memories from last night come and go as they please and all the emotions with them. Castiel falls onto one of the sofas, Dean’s beautiful smile popping into his mind. It doesn’t go well with Gabriel’s voice. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us at last.“

He walks around the screen in the middle of the room, Balthazar following on his heel. "Castiel, where the hell have you been?“

They both look him over before exchanging a meaningful look. "That’s your suit from yesterday,“ Balthazar says.

Gabriel flops down on the couch next to Castiel. "Please tell me that means what I think it means. Make my day.“

"Whatever you think it means, it’s none of your business.“

Balthazar sits down on the glass table in front of Castiel. "Look at me.“

Castiel does although he knows he shouldn’t. Balthazar has a way of knowing when people had sex. The second their eyes meet, his face splits into a grin. "Oh, you had some fun, alright.“

Gabriel slaps Castiel's thigh with a big smile. "So there really is a god. I was so close to giving up on you. Tell us everything!“

"There’s nothing to tell,“ Castiel sighs. It’s a feeble attempt to get them off his back.

"You were out all night and you’re practically glowing,“ Balthazar says. "Give us something.“

A knock on the door saves Castiel and he shouts, "Come in!“

Garth comes through the door, stopping in his tracks when he sees them all sitting there. "Oh, good morning.“

"What is it?“ Gabriel grunts. He’s obviously not pleased by the interruption.

"This just came.“ Garth holds up a dark red envelope. "Crowley has another special offer.“

Since Balthazar sits closest to him, he holds out his hand. "Thank you, Garth. I’ll take it.“

Garth hands him the envelope and gives them all a quick nod before hurrying out again. Balthazar turns to Castiel. "So, you did Pandora's box with the Demon and then what? Where did you go? What happened?“

Castiel knows that Balthazar is referring to him, but his questions make it sound as if he’s asking about Dean as well. The thought makes his whole body tingle. Having such a secret adds to all the pleasure that Castiel got to enjoy last night. "A gentleman never tells,“ he says, snatching the envelope from Balthazar’s hand.

"Oh come on,“ Gabriel grunts.

"You can’t come in here looking like this and not give us something,“ Balthazar adds.

Castiel reads the message from Crowley, ignoring their complaints. "It’s tomorrow at 8, the usual spot. Who’s going?“

Gabriel gets up. "I’m not listening to another one of his speeches.“

"You always say I spend too much,“ Balthazar says.

"Fine,“ Castiel says, not sure why he even asked. "I’ll go.“

Gabriel makes a face before disappearing through the door, but Balthazar moves from the table to the couch, leaning against Castiel. After a moment, he looks over to him. "Just answer me one question. Did you have a nice night?“

He’s asking with a sincerity in his voice that penetrates the outer layers of Castiel's defenses. "Yes, I did.“

"Good,“ Balthazar says, petting his leg. "You deserve some time off, brother.“

"He even made me breakfast,“ Castiel says, unable to keep this incredible detail to himself.

"Better keep that one then. The good ones are rare.“

Balthazar doesn’t know who he’s talking about, but Castiel still enjoys the approval. They sit in silence together for a long while.


	7. Angel in Distress

Dean walks into the old slaughterhouse with discontent. He hates this place. It reeks of blood and feces. Dean’s not entirely sure if it’s the stench of animals being killed for years or fresh smells from whatever Alastair is doing here with his frequent visitors. Dean finds him in the room where he does his preparations. Whatever sick shit that means.

“Alastair.”

“Ah Dean, come in.” Alastair is standing in front of a table with an interesting array of different torture devices. A car battery shares the space with long pliers, there are lots of knives and other cutting tools, and Dean doesn’t want to know what the various needles are for. “You have my money I presume?”

“Mr. Marsh is eager to pay next week.”

Alastair runs a knife over a grindstone, focused on Dean. “Next week?”

“He had trouble breathing when I left him, so he wasn’t in a state to pay anything. But he will.”

“Of course.”

Dean is glad that Alastair isn’t making a fuzz. The Demons are bleeding this Marsh guy dry. Giving him a week to come up with the money and only roughing him up a little was the best Dean could do. “Anything else you-”

“Hey, boss. We got your message!” A loud voice interrupts Dean. Seconds later, two Demons walk in. Dean knows them as Mark and Tyler.

Mark is the quiet type, but from what Dean hears, he likes to use brute force when a sharp word might do a better job. He’s not huge but build like a steam engine, with a square face and beady little eyes. Tyler usually talks more than he works, but he’s even more twisted than Mark. Lean, with slicked back hair, he reminds Dean of a cliche vampire. Standing next to each other they look like typical cartoon villains.

Tyler looks Dean up and down as if he can’t believe that such a lackey is allowed to occupy the same space as him, but then he turns to Alastair. “You have orders?”

Alastair hands him a red envelope. “Crowley wants a word. The usual rates, depending on what he’s offering.”

“Of course.”

The Demons turn to leave but Alastair clicks his tongue. “I didn’t dismiss you.”

Mark and Tyler come back immediately, probably worried to end up on the rack themselves. “What else can we do?”

“I believe you’ve met Dean.” Alastair puts down the knife and walks around Dean in a circle, resting his hands on Dean’s shoulders. “Very promising new hire. Very eager, aren’t you, Dean?”

“Anything for the Demons.”

“That’s the spirit.” Alastair laughs a sadistic little laugh. “You will take him with you. It’s time he meets Crowley. And remember that you’re representing us. Now you can go.”

 

* * *

 

Dean takes his own car, avoiding to drive with the two other Demons. He follows them to the docks, his heart leaping as they walk past the streetlamp where he usually meets Cas. Dean is trying hard not to think about the Angel. Spending the night with him is simultaneously the best and stupidest thing Dean has done in recent years. He should do whatever he can to cut that connection. It brings not only the undercover operation but also his life in great danger.

If only Dean could. There were many occasions where he could have walked away from Cas. Instead, he buried himself deeper and deeper into that hole. Last night, he slept with his had deep in his pillow, trying to catch every bit of Cas’ scent that still lingered there.

“Over there,” Tyler says next to Dean, almost making him jump. “You stand back and shut up. Understand?”

Dean grinds his teeth, but he shouldn’t risk an argument with Tyler. “Yes.”

They walk along the water to a tiny office building. The windows are either broken or missing completely, and Dean guesses that it’s not in use anymore. A figure steps out from behind it and Dean freezes as a cloud of smoke rises into the air. A second later, Cas steps into the light.

Dean swallows hard. He knows he’s a good actor when it comes to playing the tough guy, but how does he hide that he slept with the guy in front of them? Cas is wearing one of his usual suits with a black tie. It makes Dean think of the blue one that he tied around Cas’ wrists.

“Jimmy,” Tyler says in a sneering voice as he leads Dean and Mark closer to Cas. “I see the Angels still don’t care to send proper representation.”

Cas answers by taking another hit from his joint and looking into the harbor as if the Demons weren’t even there. Dean can see how Tyler puffs himself up even taller, angry about the lack of response. “You’re alone? Can’t get anybody to back your sorry ass up?”

“Back me up?” Cas asks with a little laugh. He gives Tyler a look as if he stepped into shit and just found the mess. “Since when do you need three guys for a negotiation?”

Cas takes another hit before flipping the joint at Tyler’s feet. Dean is sure that Tyler will explode any second, but for now, he tries to get the upper hand. “It might not end with negotiation, and then you want to have men at hand who can handle themselves. You know Mark. And have you met Dean? You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side either.”

Leaning against the wrecked building, Cas looks from Mark to Dean. They’re too far apart for Dean to see Cas’ eyes, but in his mind, he remembers the incredible blue. Cas’ gaze lingers on Dean for a moment, Dean’s heart going into overdrive, but then Cas shrugs. “You Demons look all the same to me.”

Both Mark and Tyler take a step forward, but they don’t get to retaliate. Out of the dark behind Cas, more figures come into the light. In the front is a small man in a dark suit and coat, his grey tie the bright spot in his appearance. The two men flanking him remind Dean of the guards Meg always brings to their deals. Another man with dark hair is following them. With his red striped tie and a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket, he seems better suited for a ball than a shady deal at the docks.

The small man in the front smiles and shakes Cas’ hand. “Jimmy! Always a pleasure.”

“Crowley,” Cas says.

The whole exchange is way more dignified than Tyler could ever be, but he doesn’t give up. Holding out his hand to Crowley, he steps forward. “Good evening, Crowley.”

Crowley doesn’t take his hand and simply nods to the three Demons. “Gentlemen, let’s get to it.”

One of his guards holds open the door for him and waits for Striped Tie and Cas to go inside before he follows. The other guard holds the door for the Demons and stays outside, closing the door behind them. The building only holds one barely furnished room. There’s a metal table in the center and thin chairs along the walls, but Crowley doesn’t bother to sit down. He puts a suitcase on the table and gets out two small notepads and two pens, placing them on the table.

“Shall we?” He waves the Demons closer and when they all stand around the table, he rubs his hands. “Today’s offer is definitely worth your time, gentlemen. I know about the predicament you fine families often find yourself in. Something dirty needs to be done, but the police can’t know you were involved. For occasions just as this, I offer you Mr. Ketch.”

He goes on about how Ketch recently came over from the UK, what he can do, and how the family who snatches him up will definitely profit, but Dean has a hard time listening. Somehow he ended up next to Cas. It’s hard not to take another step and take his hand. Music is playing in Dean’s head and he remembers the warm touch of Cas’ lips on his own. He has the sense not to look at Cas, but being in this room with him lets Dean’s body grow hot.

After Cas left, Dean imagined all kinds of different ways their next meeting would go. All of them were more romantic than this. Not that he wants that. He’s trying to turn Cas, not ask for his hand, but he can’t deny how much he enjoyed their time together.

“Write down your numbers and we’ll see what Mr. Ketch is worth to you,” Crowley says and Dean snaps back into the real world.

Cas and Tyler step forward, writing their offers onto the notepads before turning them over. After they go back to their former positions, Crowley checks the numbers. “Alright, seems today the Demons make the cut. Unless you want to up your offer, Jimmy?”

Cas shakes his head. Crowley turns around to shake Ketch’s hand. “It was a pleasure, Arthur. Good luck.”

Nodding to the Demons, Crowley heads for the door. “Gentleman.”

Again, his guard holds the door for him and Cas before walking outside himself. Dean can tell that Tyler is boiling with rage. “Come on,” he hisses at Mark and they rush through the door after them.

“Is he in charge?” Ketch asks, doubt in his voice.

“For now,” Dean grunts, waving Ketch along. “Let’s go.”

They walk outside and Dean takes a quick look around. It wouldn’t be the first time Tyler fucked up a deal, and Dean doesn’t like to have Cas anywhere near a pissed off Tyler. There’s no sight of Crowley, but Dean spots the Demons. His heart stops at the sight.

Mark is standing behind Cas, holding him up by the arms while Tyler buries his fist in his stomach. Dean rushes over to them, Ketch following at a slower pace. “What the fuck are you doing?” Dean shouts.

Before he can reach them, Tyler hits Cas in the face. Cas’ lip splits open, blood running down his chin. The sight hits a switch in Dean’s head and without thinking, he grabs Tyler and hurls him away from Cas.

“Are you crazy?” Tyler screeches, shaking him off. “Touch me again and you’re next.”

Despite acting all tough, Tyler doesn’t look confident at all, and Dean relishes in the sight. If push comes to shove, Tyler isn’t a problem for Dean. He’s more worried about Mark, but he doubts Mark would be stupid enough to let Cas go. Still, concerning his cover, it’s not a good idea to pick a fight with his own people.

“You can’t just mess him up like that,” Dean says, trying to come up with a reason for his concern.

“He’s just a low-rank pidgeon, I can do whatever I want with him.” Tyler hits Cas again. “Not so pretty anymore, are you, Angel?”

Dean balls his fists, barely able to restrain himself. He walks up to Tyler. “Tyler, leave him.”

“Jesus, Ketch, do something for your money and get that idiot away from me!”

Maybe Dean shouldn’t have told Ketch that Tyler is in charge. Ketch grabs Dean with a tight grip. Tyler grins and lands such a heavy blow that Mark lets go of Cas. He lands on the floor with a grown, Tyler stepping over him. “I bet you remember my name now.”

Cas looks up to him and spits out blood. “I still don’t care.”

“Oh, you will.” Tyler kicks him in the stomach.

Dean strains himself so hard that Ketch can barely hold him. “I don’t care how much they pay for you, if you don’t let me go right now, nobody in charge can help you.”

“Americans,” Ketch says, and Dean can hear the eye-roll in his voice, but he lets Dean go.

Without pause, Dean rushes over to Tyler. Before he can land another kick, Dean grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around. “Are you really that stupid?”

“Mark,” Tyler says, making Mark take position next to him. Cas coughs behind them. “You better think long and hard about what you do next, new guy.”

“Alastair explicitly told you to behave, and you do this?”

“We always have a go at some Angels when we can. They won’t start a war over pretty boy here. He’s nothing.” Tyler spits on the ground next to Cas.

Dean fights the urge to slap him. “He seems to be important enough that Crowley knows him by name. You think you’ll handle many deals in the future if Crowley finds out you disrespect neutral ground?”

For once, Tyler doesn’t have a snappy comeback. Still, he raises his chin at Dean. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just saying. Right now we don’t look so good. Four against one.”

“He has a point,” Mark grunts. He might be all for violence, but they all have to think about their reputation. Beating on one Angel deep in their own territory is nothing to be proud of.

Tyler puffs himself up again, looking back at Cas with disgust. “I’m done with him anyway. Let’s go.”

He walks past Ketch with Mark on his heel, Ketch following them after a last look at Dean. Of course, Dean knows that he should go with them, but Cas is still on the ground. When the others are out of sight, he steps a little closer. “You alright?”

Cas rolls onto his back, taking a deep breath. “I’ll live. Thanks to you.”

“What were you thinking showing up here alone?” Dean grunts. With another cough, Cas tries to sit up. He’s struggling, so Dean crouches down next to him, pulling him in a sitting position. “Do you want me to give you a lift?”

“No, Dean. You’re going to blow our cover.”

Dean knows that Cas isn’t talking about him, but for the first time since the deal started, Dean remembers that he’s a cop. He’s supposed to look like a hardened criminal, not play nurse for an enemy. Still, he can’t bring himself to walk away. The sight of Cas getting hurt uncovered something inside of him that he tried very hard to hide. Dean is ready to risk everything for Cas.

“Did you hear me, Dean?” Cas puts his hand on Dean’s arm. The touch burns hotter than the iron when they gave Dean his mark. “Just go. I’ll be fine.”

Dean takes a last look at Cas, now close enough to see the blue. He gets up and walks away, his body trembling from the effort not to run back and take Cas into his arms.

Once Dean brings the Demons down, he knows for sure who he’s going to lock up first. The days of Tyler and Mark are counted.

 


	8. Fallen

“That little shit!” Gabriel shouts, walking back and forth in the Throne Room. “He’ll pay for that. Not starting a war my ass!”

“Gabriel, sit down,” Castiel says, tapping at his lip.

Donatello, their go-to-doctor, cleaned him up as soon as Castiel got back to Heaven Manor. His lip doesn’t bleed anymore, and he feels alright, aside from some bruising where Tyler kicked him. Castiel just finished telling Gabriel and Balthazar what happened.

“But he’s right,” Balthazar says. “If they think they can do what they want, we should send them a message.”

“I’ll blow cotton candy up his ass until he can work for the circus,” Gabriel says.

The imagine makes Castiel laugh, but it turns into a cough when pain shoots through his side. “Gabriel, please.”

Gabriel sits down next to him. “So what are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll invite Tyler and Mark over for dinner, show them the kitchen. I think I’ll even cook for them myself.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Balthazar says, grinning at Gabriel who leans back like Castiel.

“I’ll still take care of the desert.”

They stay quiet for a while until Balthazar asks the question Castiel tried to avoid. “Why did they stop? I mean, I’m glad they did, but they could have roughed you up way worse.”

Castiel does his best to keep a straight face. “There was another Demon. Dean Smith. He convinced them that Crowley wouldn’t deal with them anymore if they don’t respect neutral ground.”

“The guy you do the Coven deal with?” Balthazar asks.

Castiel nods and Gabriel sits up in a hurry. “Seriously? I can’t believe it.”

Hot fear shoots through Castiel. He watches Gabriel, worried that he said too much. “What?”

“A smart Demon,” Gabriel gasps overly dramatic. “That’s almost as unbelievable as you hooking up.”

Castiel rolls his eyes but has to laugh and both Gabriel and Balthazar chime in until Castiel stops with another cough. “Can we get to business now?”

“Sure. I have a question for you,” Gabriel says. “Why didn’t you get this Ketch guy for us?”

“I had a bad feeling about him. And letting a skilled guy like him into our operation when he might still take orders from Crowley is one of the dumbest moves I can think of.”

“Oh, so that’s why Tyler snatched him right up.”

They laugh again until they get interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” Gabriel says, nothing left from his earlier anger.

Hannah opens the door, a thick folder in her hand. “Balthazar, I have the info you asked me to look up.”

“Great, come in.”

Hannah enters but looks a little intimidated by the assembly of all three Novak brothers. For a moment, her eyes rest on Castiel’s banged up face.

“Don’t be shy, sit down.” Gabriel taps the armchair next to him. “And don’t worry about his face. He’s always that ugly.”

Balthazar snorts, but Hannah only stares at Castiel with big eyes. “It’s alright,” he says, gesturing to the chair. “Whatever news you have, it can’t be worse than the day I already had.”

Finally, Hannah sits down. Gabriel snatches the folder from her and looks inside. “So what did you find out?” Balthazar asks.

“It’s about the new Demon you wanted me to check, Dean Smith.”

Castiel coughs when new pain shoots through his body. He didn’t even know that Balthazar checked up on Dean. Balthazar keeps smiling at Hannah. “And?”

“Oh Cassie boy, you’re losing your touch,” Gabriel says before Hannah can answer. “Now I know why Dean is the only smart Demon. He’s no Demon at all.”

“What else would he be?” Castiel asks, his mouth dry. He draws a blank at what could possibly be in that folder. If Hannah found out about Dean and him, Gabriel’s reaction would be very different.

“Dean Smith is actually called Dean Winchester, and the reason why he’s hanging out with the Demons is that he’s an undercover cop.”

Balthazar says something, but Castiel doesn’t hear it. There’s a loud buzzing noise in his head and an endless echo of Gabriel’s words. An undercover cop. Dean is a cop. Dean Winchester is a cop.

Castiel thinks back to every meeting with Dean. How he never behaved like a Demon, how subtle he gathered information, and how he managed to act like a criminal, but rarely got his hands dirty. It makes sense. Still, that would mean that he only played Castiel. Why stick to investigating the Demons when you can get a two for one special and check out the dumbest Angel at the same time?

Is Dean that good? Did he go all in and start an affair with Castiel purely for the job? Castiel remembers every lingering look, every soft touch, every warm kiss. “He can’t be,” he says, interrupting Balthazar in mid-sentence.

“Don’t sweat it,” Gabriel says. “You had a perfect record so far. Nobody cares that you missed one cop.”

Balthazar leans over and pats Castiel’s leg. “Yeah. I mean, they’re getting a lot better at hiding their man. And I guess you were distracted by the mystery man.”

He winks at Gabriel who laughs, but Castiel turns to Hannah. “How did you find out? Are you sure?”

Hannah jumps when he suddenly addresses her, but then she explains, “Well, at first he seemed clean. Just a small-time criminal from out of town. I gave the picture Garth took to Hester as well since she works in the courthouse. At first, she couldn’t find anything, but today she saw a photograph on a prosecutor's desk. His name is Sam Winchester, and when Hester asked him about the picture, he told her it’s his brother. It still took a lot of digging, but with that information, I found out more about him. Their father John was a cop, too.”

“Thank you, you can go,” Castiel says the words without really looking at her, his mind in such chaos that he can hardly hold in a scream.

Hannah looks at Balthazar as if to check that she’s really dismissed. Castiel might be a Novak brother, but he doesn’t give any orders. “You did a great job,” Balthazar says. “Thank you.”

They watch her leave before Gabriel leans forward. “We got lucky. How long do you think it’ll take the Demons to find out?”

“Not long.” Balthazar shrugs as if he doesn’t care. “They have people everywhere. If we get lucky, they will, too. At least we don’t have to take him out.”

Castiel’s blood runs cold. He felt so betrayed that he didn’t think about what it means for Dean when the Demons find out. He’d be lucky if they just kill him. Castiel jumps to his feet and throws the door open, shouting at the guard outside. “Get me Aaron, now!”

Just like Hannah, the guards usually don’t take orders from Castiel, but this one seems to understand that he shouldn’t defy Castiel at the moment. He jogs along the corridor and Castiel heads back to the couch, snatching the folder from Gabriel’s hand. Balthazar and Gabriel both watch him while he looks through it with trembling hands.

“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Balthazar asks, his voice as calm as if he’s speaking to a wounded animal.

Castiel doesn’t answer. The paperwork proves what Hannah said. John Winchester was an undercover cop. He died in a house fire that also claimed his wife. Sam Winchester is a prosecutor at the local court. And Dean… Castiel stares at a small picture that is pinned to one of the sheets of paper. It’s a photo of Dean that Garth took before their third deal. Of course, it’s not in the picture, but Castiel knows that Dean was looking at him when this was taken. He remembers what they talked about. How come that he couldn’t see Dean for who he was?

“You asked for me?” Aaron says into the room, standing a little lost in the door frame.

Castiel gestures for him to come in and gets up to show Aaron the photo of Dean. “Yes, I have a job for you. This is Dean Winchester. He’s a cop, currently undercover with the Demons. You will write a message for him, saying ‘They know you’re not a criminal,’ and you will slip it to him without him noticing. Here, remember his face.”

Aaron is clearly taken aback by Castiel’s rant, but he takes the picture and studies it closely. “Alright. Any idea where I might find this Dean?”

Castiel closes his eyes, trying to remember all the things his little birdies told him about Dean’s work for the Demons. “Try the ‘Riverside Shag’ by the docks at around 6. He should be there. You can try to flirt with him. That should draw his attention.”

Aaron checks the photo again and grins. “I can do that.”

Something twists in Castiel’s stomach at the sight. “Just flirting, you don’t have to go all the way. Give him the message and make sure he forgets you the second you leave. Clear?”

“Dean, ‘Riverside Shag’ at 6, ‘They know you’re not a criminal,’ out of sight, out of mind. I get it.”

“Good, you can go.”

Castiel takes the picture back from Aaron who looks at them until Gabriel says, “Thank you, that’s all.”

Castiel watches him leave and grunts, “They really don’t take orders from me, do they?”

“It’s what you wanted, Cassie,” Gabriel reminds him.

“Well, I might have to change that. It’s annoying.”

“You know what might help?” Balthazar asks. “If you clue us in on your plan. Why warn this cop? Do you want to flip him?”

For a short, sweet second, Castiel considered the possibility, but he doesn’t believe that a cop who’s determined enough to go undercover with the Demons would just switch sides. Dean is obviously a righteous man. “Well, he doesn’t do us any good if he’s dead.”

“We already have a bunch of cops in our pocket,” Gabriel says, “what’s so special about him?”

Deep down, Castiel knows, but he can’t say it to his brothers. He can’t even admit it to himself. Not now, when the rift between him and Dean became even bigger. They’re standing on opposite sides of a canyon.

“You just have to trust me.” Castiel walks out of the Throne Room and heads downstairs. Aaron is a good first step, but Castiel needs more. After all, Dean’s life is at stake.

Castiel heads for a small room next to the stairs that lead to the kitchen. It’s where a bunch of the lower rank Angels like to hang out in between jobs. Lucky for Castiel, he finds exactly who he’s looking for. Ash and Garth are playing poker, their conversation going quiet the second Castiel enters the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Ash, could you give us a minute?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ash jumps up and leaves. It’s good to see that at least a few Angels show Castiel some respect.

Garth looks at him with big eyes. “Anything you want me to do?”

“Yes.” Castiel sits down on Ash’s chair and pulls Dean’s photo out, placing it on the table in front of Dean. “Remember him?”

“Uh, yes. That’s the photo I took,” Garth says.

“Good. From this point forward, I want you to tail him. I want to know about everything he does. If you see anything suspicious, you call me immediately.”

“Suspicious like?”

Castiel looks at the photo. He has to admit what matters to him right now. “I don’t want any harm to come to this man. If he’s in trouble, you help him. If anybody tries to make a move against him, you tell me.”

Garth nods eagerly. “Alright, boss.”

“I don’t know for how long, so if you need a break, you can let Ash take over, but he has to understand how important this is.”

“Of course, I’ll tell him.”

“Good, then go now. I suggest you start at Dean’s apartment. Here’s the address.” Castiel takes one of the papers out of the folder and hands it to Garth. “And Garth? Nobody can know about this, not even Gabriel and Balthazar. Do you understand?”

Garth swallows visibly, but he nods again. “I understand. You can count on me, boss.”

He jumps to his feet and leaves. Castiel wishes he could do more, but Garth is definitely dedicated. It’s the best protection Castiel can offer Dean right now. With a sigh, Castiel walks over to a sideboard and pours himself a drink, a humorless laugh breaking out of him. It’s probably the first time in history that an Angel gave the order to protect a cop, not for tactical reasons but solely because he wanted to. Castiel raises his glass to the sky, “Bet you’re proud now, dad.”

Emptying the glass in one go, Castiel reaches for the bottle. He might as well celebrate the occasion.


	9. Pretty Much Dead Already

“This ain’t a friendly discussion, Dean,” Bobby grunts. “You’re out.”

Dean jumps up from his chair, leaning over Bobby’s desk. “You can’t do that. Alastair is finally beginning to give me some serious work. I only told you about the note to give you the full picture.”

“Yeah, I see the picture. It ain’t a Picasso. There’s a straight line from you to the grave, so I’m pulling you out.”

“What if it is a test?” Dean asks. He curses himself for telling Bobby about the note he received last night. “It says ‘we know you’re not a criminal.’ It doesn’t say ‘we know you’re a cop.’ What if they want to see how I react? If I don’t show up, I’m out.”

“You are out right now, Dean. Maybe it is a test, but we don’t know and I ain’t taking that risk.”

“Bobby-”

“Sit your ass down, boy!” Bobby shouts. He’s never raised his voice at Dean before, but now he looks livid. He takes a small object out of his breast pocket and places it on the table. It’s a single bullet.

“What is that?” Dean asks.

“It’s the round I’m meaning to put through my skull. Every morning I look at it. I think, maybe today is the day I flip the lights out. But I don’t do it. I never do it. You know why?”

Dean doesn’t say anything. He knows he won’t like the answer.

Bobby’s face gets even angrier, his voice booming in the small room. “Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!”

Dean remembers that conversation. It was years ago before Dean left. “You’re right, Bobby. I’m sorry. I’m out.”

 

* * *

 

Dean hates lying to Bobby, but there’s no way he’s giving up now. He has no idea who put the note in his pocket, but he has to take a chance. If he backs out now, they’re right where they started with no way of getting back in. Staying with the Demons is the best chance he has of finding the person who murdered his parents.

“Take a left up there,” Anthony says next to him.

Dean has never seen or heard of the Demon before. Alastair just instructed him to go with him and to do whatever he says. He takes it as a good sign. Nobody is putting a gun to his head. Instead, Alastair trusts him with different work. If the note was a test, he should’ve passed by now.

They drive through the Upper Belt, at the outskirts of town near the river. There aren’t many houses, but it’s far from the abandoned shitholes of Styx Valley where the Demons usually operate. “Hold up over there,” Anthony says.

In front of them lies a big farmhouse, surrounded by trees. It’s a welcome sight after weeks and weeks in the city, where trees are few and far between.

Anthony gets out of the car, waving Dean over when he follows him. “This is going to be fun,” he says, a big smile on his face now. “Didn’t get to do this gig for a while.”

“Yeah, what is it that we’re doing?”

“You’ll see. And don’t worry. Alastair explicitly asked me to give you a front seat.” Dreading what Anthony might consider fun, Dean follows him into the house. It’s dusty and dark, with only a small table and two chairs in the center of the living room. “Sit down, I’ll be right back.”

As Anthony disappears into the next room, Dean takes the chair closest to the exit, straining his ears to get an idea what he’s doing.

“Hello, Dean.” The second Alastair comes around the corner, Dean knows that he’s fucked.

It makes no sense for Alastair to let him go with Anthony and then come here himself. Unless he wanted Dean to feel safe and go along without a fuzz. Alastair smiles. “I can read the question on your face. You see, I wanted to give Anthony the pleasure of spending the day with you, but we rarely have special guests like you these days. I decided to be selfish and come along as well.”

Anthony appears in the doorway, and a figure is walking past the window outside, taking position by the door. Dean knows there’ll be probably more Demons. They do have the numbers.

“Special guests?” Dean asks, hoping against hope that this is some fucked up initiation like the mark on his arm.

“Cops, Dean. Cops.” Alastair laughs. “Your chief got worried after we- Well, let's say we had a little too much fun with a lot of them. But if you willingly go to hell, you should be able to take the heat.”

Alastair nods to Anthony who takes out a gun from behind his back and points it at Dean.

“Imagine my surprise when I heard that you’re not a boring Smith,” Alastair says. He walks over to a dusty sideboard at the end of the room and takes a long piece of rope out of one of the drawers. Coming back to Dean, he smiles. “No, you’re a Winchester. You of all people should know about heat.”

Dean doesn’t answer. There’s no way out of here. With a little luck, he could have taken Alastair and Anthony, but there are more Demons and then he’s still in the middle of nowhere with no places to hide. Dean’s pretty much dead already. He won’t play Alastair's game but go from this world with dignity, hoping that Bobby can forgive him.

“You’re not much of a talker, I noticed that about you.” Alastair starts at Dean’s right arm, tying him to the chair. “But then again, neither was your daddy.”

Dean flinches and Alastair grins. He crosses the rope over Dean’s chest to strap him to the back of the chair. “Oh yes, I knew John Winchester. He talked a big game, but never really got his hands dirty. So unlike you, Dean.”

Alastair ties down Dean’s left arm and looks over his work from a distance before he leans in. With his hand on Dean’s neck, he comes so close as if he wants to kiss him. “I guess you come after your mother. I wish I could have had a go with her before she turned into barbeque.”

Dean throws his head forward, his forehead colliding with Alastair’s face. A sharp pain shoots through Dean’s head, blood dripping down from his eyebrow. Alastair stumbles back, holding his mouth, blood showing between his fingers. Anthony moves closer, but Alastair waves him away, grinning at Dean with bloody teeth. “Ah yes, you have spunk.”

Alastair spits out blood before moving closer to Dean again, not bothering to wipe his face clean. “There’s something inside of you,” he says, sniffing the air as if he opened a fresh bottle of wine and is tasting the bouquet. “Sweet anger, the desire for revenge. And my favorite, self-loathing.”

He puts a hand to Dean’s cheek and only smiles when Dean turns his head away. “I’m going to enjoy breaking that pretty face. You’re a fighter, Dean. We’re going to have fun with you for a long time. Anthony?”

Anthony steps into the other room again. Coming back, he pushes a food cart that’s filled with all the tools Alastair usually uses at the old slaughterhouse. Dean can imagine that he’s not the only old dog the Demons brought out here to the farm.

Whistling a crude melody, Alastair takes a knife and walks over to Dean. He rips through the sleeves of his jacket and shirt, exposing the Demon mark on his arm. “What a waste to give you this.”

Alastair moves the tip of the knife over Dean’s skin. It’s cold, and when goosebumps erupt all over his body, Dean thinks about Cas. Dean wishes he could have said goodbye.

“You know, we could keep you.” Alastair moves around Dean in a circle. “You have it in you. I’m sure I could turn you into a great Demon.”

Dean doesn’t believe him. It’s just a ruse to make him beg for his life. “Pass,” Dean says, smiling at Alastair. “I’d much rather be an Angel than a Demon.”

A shadow falls over Alastair’s face. Dean knows that he’ll pay for this, but it feels good to put up a fight. As long as he draws breath, he won’t give Alastair the satisfaction of breaking him. Alastair stops next to Dean, putting the knife back into position. “We’ll see what you will be when I’m done with you.”

Alastair runs the knife along the mark as if he needs to cross it out. Dean clenches his teeth, determined not to make a sound. With a smile, Alastair moves the bloody blade around in front of Dean’s face. “Don’t worry, Dean. This is just the beginning. Anthony? If you please.”

Anthony steps closer, taking the knife from Alastair. The moment Anthony holds it in his hand, a loud bang comes from outside. A second later, there’s a cracking sound and a thud. Dean watches how Anthony falls back, a hole in his forehead. The moment he hits the ground, all hell breaks loose.

People are shouting, followed by shots. Alastair dives to the ground, a bullet hitting the wall behind him a second later. Dean holds his head down, thoughts racing. He didn’t tell anybody what he was up to, but maybe Bobby didn’t believe him and had him followed? Dean would gladly endure all of Bobby’s wrath as long as it means that there’s police outside, taking out the Demons.

“Alastair, careful! It’s-” The warning from outside is cut short. Alastair dives over to Anthony, grabbing the knife.

A moment later, the door flies open and a dark figures steps inside. Judging by his frame, Dean guesses that it’s a man. He’s dressed in all black, a red devil’s mask in front of his face. After a quick look at Dean, he lunches at Alastair. With a shout, Alastair pulls up the knife, but the mystery man takes a step to the side and gives him a backhanded blow to the face.

Alastair falls back, losing the knife, but he rolls around to get back on his feet. Dean is straining his arms, trying his best to get out of the rope. He has no idea who the stranger is, but since he’s fighting the Demons, it should be a good idea for Dean to help him. Alastair and the stranger circle each other, both looking for an opening to strike. With an angry cry, Alastair throws himself at the stranger as if he wants to strangle him, the stranger gripping his arms to hold him at bay.

They’re struggling with each other when another Demon storms through the door, his gun raised. The stranger has his back turned to him, too occupied with Alastair to even notice. “Watch out!” Dean shouts.

The Demon looks at Dean for a second but still takes the shot. Dean feels like he can see the bullet fly in slow motion. It heads for the stranger, but he manages to turn away enough that it hits Alastair in the shoulder. He falls back with a cry. The Demon is so flustered by shooting his own boss that the stranger has time to react. He pulls out a knife that he has strapped to his ankle and throws it at the Demon. Since the blade is hitting the Demon’s hand, he lets go off his gun and it clatters to the floor. The stranger takes a quick look at Alastair but seems to decide that the other Demon is the bigger threat. He grabs a crowbar from Alastair’s torture arsenal and attacks the Demon.

Dean finally has the sense to spring into action. He throws his weight to one side, toppling over the chair. Lucky for him, it’s a poor excuse for woodwork, the armrest breaking on impact. All the air gets pressed out of Dean’s lungs and he might have just broken a finger, but wiggling and straining his arms and legs, he gets his arm free.

While Dean does his best to get out of the rope, Alastair is trying to get back on his feet. With a grunt, he pulls himself up, holding onto the table. As soon as he stands, he grabs a knife, but the stranger is quicker. He turns around, swinging the crowbar and hitting the knife right out of Alastair's hand.

Dean arches his back at full force, and the chair gives in, breaking apart under him. The stranger hits Alastair, making him stumble into the next wall. He definitely has the upper hand there, but the Demon is still behind him. He pulls a spare gun out of his jacket. Dean rolls around, grabbing the gun from the floor and shoots. The Demon falls back, firing his own gun with a surprised screech.

Fortunately, the bullet hits the wall. When the stranger turns around to see if the Demon is really out of the game, Alastair uses the distraction to move into the back of the house. “He’s running,” Dean shouts.

The stranger doesn’t care. He crouches down beside Dean and grabs his arms to help him up. “We have to go.”

His voice is muffled, but through the slits of the Devil’s mask, Dean can see his eyes. “Cas?”

“Dean, move!”

A figure steps into the doorframe, but before the Demon can act, he has a bullet in his head, falling backward out of the house. Dean stares at the gun in Cas’ hand. He must have taken it off the other Demon. “Cas, how did you-?”

Cas grabs Dean and pulls him to his feet with force, shoving him to the wall next to the door. With a grunt, he rips the Devil’s mask of his face and throws it to the ground. “I have a guy up the hill, he’ll cover us. It’s a straight line from here to the trees. If you make it till there, you should have enough cover. When I say go, you run, and you don’t stop, no matter what. Alright?”

“Alright.”

Dean leans against the frame of the door, peeking outside. He can see the sun reflecting from something up on the hill as if the person up there is signaling them. Cas nods to his left side. “There’s still a Demon left, my guy can’t get a shot. I’ll take him out, you run.”

“Okay.”

Cas takes a last look at Dean before he steps through the door and turns left. “Go!”

Dean sprints through the door, shots echoing behind him. He keeps running as fast as he can, hearing footsteps behind him. Risking a quick look over his shoulder, he can see Cas following him. Then, there’s the sound of another shot and Cas stumbles. Without thinking, Dean turns around, running back to him. “Dean, no!”

Dean reaches Cas, pulling him up. A bullet digs into the ground next to them, throwing up dirt. With all the strength he can muster, Dean drags Cas with him. More shots are fired, but Dean can’t tell if it’s another Demon or the guy helping Cas. They make it to the trees, and Cas lets go of Dean. “It’s alright. I’m good.”

“What now?” Dean leans around a tree, trying to see if anybody is following them.

“We need to get into the city and hide. This whole area is going to crawl with Demons pretty soon.”

“And your guy?”

“He’ll be fine,” Cas says, leaning heavily against a tree to catch his breath.

“Are you hit?” Dean steps over to Cas when he sees blood running down his arm. The thought that Cas might be hurt because of him turns his stomach.

Cas gives his shoulder a quick glance. “I think a bullet graced me, nothing serious.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“You too.” Cas eyes roam over Dean’s face and there’s anger flaring in his eyes. It reminds Dean of the look Cas gave the manager in the “Blue Heaven Ballroom.” “Alastair is going to pay for this, but first we have to get out of here. Come.”

They make their way through the trees, always looking back to make sure nobody is following them. After a while, more and more houses come into view, and soon they step back into civilization. It’s not overly crowded, but there are enough people that the Demons should have a hard time spotting them. The only problem is that they’re both bleeding, and although they hid their guns, they still don’t look like average shoppers.

“We need to get off the street,” Cas says. “By now every Demon in the city will know that Alastair had you on his to-do list. If they see you now, they will shoot to kill.”

Dean sighs. By now, he can’t believe how stupid he was. He had a damn warning and still flung himself into Alastair’s trap with open arms. “I’m such an idiot. I should have known that-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence when Cas pushes him into a side alley and covers his mouth with his hand. They’re both pressed against the wall, hidden in the shadows. Two men walk past, pushing people out of their way. “... far. We have to grab him before the stupid cops decide to…”

Cas takes his hand away when the voices get out of earshot. He studies the alley for a moment, then he nods at the twilight before them. “This way. It’s safer than out on the open street.”

Dean follows Cas through a labyrinth of small alleyways and backyards. Although he’s been gone for years, he likes to think that he knows the city pretty well. It’s nothing compared to Cas, though. They walk through open apartment buildings, something like a small scrapyard, and even a short underground tunnel that must have been a bomb shelter once.

They emerge at the back of a burned out house, Cas leading Dean right into it by using the fire escape. Inside, Cas moves along the corridors as if he lives there, never hesitating for even a second. They end up in a room on the second floor. It seems the fire didn’t do as much damage here as in the rest of the house. The windows are covered with thick blankets and an old mattress lies in one corner. A few boxes are piled up next to it, and a small table holds a few candles. It looks like they’re not the first people to seek shelter here.

Cas puts his gun on the table before sitting down on the mattress, pulling a bottle out of one of the boxes. He takes a swig before holding it out to Dean. “Whiskey?”

“Have you been here before?” Dean asks. He takes the bottle but doesn’t drink. He needs answers and a lot of them before he does anything else.

“I hang out here sometimes.”

Dean looks at Cas and it begins to dawn on him how little he knows about this man. How can it be that he already means so much to him when he’s still just a stranger? It’s like they have this bond, but Dean has no idea where it came from.

“Why?” he asks. It doesn’t seem fitting for an Angel to hide like a hobo.

Cas leans his head back against the wall. “The house belonged to a friend.”

“What happened?”

“The Demons burnt it down.”

Something pierces Dean’s heart and he takes a swig from the bottle after all before sitting down next to Cas.


	10. Close Encounter

Dean and Castiel sit in silence for a while, handing the bottle back and forth. To Castiel, it feels like being in a different world. Weeks ago, there was order in his life, rules to follow, the same places to be every day of the week.

Now, he’s sitting in a burned out building with a cop by his side after shooting up a Demon hideout. If he’s lucky, the Demons won’t know who hit them and stay quiet for now, but they could also wage war against the Angels. And why?

Because Castiel fell for a cop. He has to admit it. The second Garth called him, Castiel dropped everything for this crazy rescue mission. That’s not a fling or calculation. Castiel is in love with Dean Winchester.

“We should probably take care of our wounds,” Dean says into the room, waving the bottle of whiskey. “This won’t do much for the physical ones.”

Castiel comes out of his stupor and crawls over to the boxes. He takes out a bowl and hands it to Dean. “There’s a bathroom next door, the water should still be on.”

While Dean fetches the water, Castiel rummages through the boxes. He knows there’s an old first aid kit somewhere. Dean puts the bowl with water down on the floor next to Castiel before shrugging out of his jacket. Then he holds out his arms. “Let me help you.”

He helps Castiel to take off his jacket and shirt, taking a close look at Castiel’s shoulder. “Doesn’t look too bad. Just a graze.”

With the supplies they have at hand, Dean cleans and bandages the wound. Then Castiel fetches fresh water and they take turns. Dean takes off his shirt, showing Castiel the cut up mark. “He really thought that would bother me. As if I wanted the damn thing in the first place.”

“Well, you shouldn’t go to abandoned farmhouses with Demons.” Castiel cleans the cuts as best as he can, but he’s sure they’ll leave scars. “Makes it harder for them to torture you.”

“And you shouldn’t go on crazy rescue missions. It’s a lot harder to get shot at home.”

Castiel can’t believe that Dean actually complains about being rescued. “I thought the note would-”

He stops himself, but Dean’s eyes shoot up and he stares at him. “The note?”

Focusing on Dean’s wound, Castiel shakes his head. “Forget it. We should think of a way to get out of here.”

“So you know then?” Castiel tries to put a bandage on Dean’s arm, but Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s. “You know that I’m a cop.”

It stings to hear the words out of Dean’s own mouth, but there’s nothing Castiel can do about it. “Yes. I found out yesterday.”

“How?”

“The Angels have people everywhere, just like the Demons. Your chief should really know that by now.”

Dean finally takes his hand away, giving Castiel a chance to bandage his arm. Castiel can feel Dean’s eyes on him the whole time. It makes his whole body tingle, but deep inside he’s afraid of the questions Dean might have. Castiel doesn’t want to lie, but the truth might hurt even more.

“Why?” Dean asks, the word echoing in the room. “Why the warning? Why rescue me?”

Castiel thinks about the answer he gave himself. Would Dean accept it? Or even care about it? To Dean, Castiel is nothing more than an Angel. “You throw us all in one pot, but Angels are nothing like Demons.”

“You are criminals, aren’t you?”

It hurts that Dean thinks like that, but Castiel has to admit that he has a point. After all, he doesn’t have to live like Castiel. How can he possibly know? Castiel starts cleaning off the blood from Dean’s face. “When I found out, I sent you the note, telling you to walk away. When Alastair found out, he wanted to torture and kill you. You tell me if there’s a difference.”

Dean stays quiet for a while, letting Castiel work on his face. Finally, Castiel dabs the cut on Dean’s eyebrow with disinfectant, trying his hardest not to look at Dean.

“So, you’re a good criminal then?” Dean asks.

“I don’t claim to be a saint, Dean.” Castiel can’t keep the anger out of his voice. “I know exactly who and what I am, and I regret things that I did in the past, but I’m nothing like a Demon. Alastair doesn’t torture people for information, or even for revenge. He enjoys it. I have seen what’s left of his victims when he’s done, and I didn’t want you to end up like that.”

Castiel sits back on the mattress, away from Dean, who stares into the ground now. “Why do you hate them so much? I mean, I know Angels and Demons hate each other, but when you talk about them, it sounds personal. What did they do to you?”

“They-” Castiel starts, trying his best to come up with a lie, but if Dean wants the truth, he should have it. “They killed my sister.”

Dean opens his mouth, his eyes wide. Then he shrugs his shoulders, clearly at a loss what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too, because it was my fault. I should have protected her, I should have taken her away from that life. Instead, I hurt people, I killed them.” Dean keeps looking at Castiel, who doesn’t care anymore about what he says. Talking about Anna rips his chest open, a hole gaping where his heart is supposed to be. “You can arrest me right now if you feel like it, I don’t care. Anna was caring, funny, and above all, innocent. She never hurt anybody. And then some Demon felt like taking revenge. They tortured her and threw her body on our doorstep. I didn’t even recognize her at first, her body all mingled and-”

Castiel’s voice breaks. Just like him, Gabriel and Balthazar grieved in their own way. They never talked about what happened to Anna. They never talk about her at all. She’s just a distant memory from a different life. Tears well up in Castiel’s eyes. He feels like screaming, but his throat is dry. He can hear his blood pumping through his veins, and breathing becomes harder and harder.

At first, Castiel barely notices how Dean puts his arms around him. He can hear his voice coming from far away, both of them rocking back and forth. “It’s okay, Cas. You’ll be alright. Just breathe. Come on, breathe with me.”

Dean tightens his grip and Castiel can feel his warm body against his own, skin on skin. Dean’s chest rises and falls with every breath. Castiel tries to mimic it until their bodies are moving in sync. After a while, Dean makes Castiel lie down, putting a thin blanket over him and hugging him to his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles in Castiel’s back. All the while, he keeps talking, reassuring Castiel that everything will be fine. “The Demons outside-,” Castiel says, but Dean shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, if they’re dumb enough to come in here, it’s the last thing they do.” Dean’s voice is harsh, filled with something Castiel has never heard before. He believes him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

Castiel startles awake, pictures of Anna haunting his mind. A bit of light falls on his face. He has to hold up his hand so he can see. Dean is standing at one of the windows, looking down onto the street. “I think I recognize one of the guys at the corner. Some low life Demon I had to work with.”

“I feared that might happen.” Castiel gets to his feet to walk over to Dean. He looks over his shoulder, scanning the street. “I don’t see any Angels.”

“You think they’ll come?” Dean turns around to him, their faces suddenly just inches away from each other. Castiel takes a step back and Dean looks through the window again.

“I’m sure of it. We don’t like it when there are too many Demons in the Upper Belt.”

Castiel falls back onto the mattress, looking for the whiskey bottle. He might as well start his morning right. Dean shakes his head when Castiel offers it to him. “How long do you think we need to stay here?”

“Not long, an hour, maybe two.” Castiel takes another drink before putting the bottle away. He searches through the boxes until he finds a sewing kit. As he goes to work on his shirt, Dean turns away from the window, watching him instead. “What are you doing?”

“The more presentable we look, the fewer people will point at us while we walk down the street. That’s in general a good strategy to blend in.”

“You have a sewing kit, but no spare clothes?”

“No Dean, I don’t have spare clothes. This is a hideout in a burned down building, not a Valentine Central tailor.”

“Wow, touchy,” Dean says, holding up his hands. “It seemed more plausible than you sewing your own clothes.”

“Usually I don’t use this for clothes.”

Dean’s eyes travel from the whiskey bottle to the needle in Castiel’s hand, putting two and two together. “You stitch yourself up in here?”

Castiel bites off the thread and inspects his work. “It’s not like I can just go to a hospital.”

“But don’t you have some sort of mafia family doctor?”

It never occurred to Castiel before, but Dean sure does have a lot of questions. You can’t get the cop out of him, even if his life depends on it. “How about I take you to Heaven Manor and you take a look around? You could write a report.”

Castiel glares at Dean who stares right back, but then Dean leans against the windowsill, the tension gone. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to interrogate you.”

“Give me your jacket,” Castiel says, his tone a lot less hostile. “Your shirt has too much blood on it, but if I can fix the jacket, you should look presentable.”

Dean hands him the jacket before returning to the window. “What would you do if you weren’t an Angel?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m trying to make small talk okay?” Dean says with a weak smile. “You wake up tomorrow and you’re just a normal guy. You can do whatever you want. What would you do?”

Castiel thought about this many times, even fantasized about it. “Travel.”

“Travel?”

“Yes. Leave the city, go on a long journey, and maybe never come back.” Castiel pushes the needle into the fabric with more force than necessary. He pokes his finger but doesn’t make a sound. “What about you?”

Dean shrugs. “Travelling sounds good. Get into my car and just drive. No destination. Just open road ahead.”

Castiel holds his breath for a moment to get over the burning feeling in his chest. Of course, they would enjoy doing the same thing. They are perfect for each other if it weren’t for a few little details that aren’t as easy to mend as Dean’s jacket. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Dean says. He slips into his shirt before putting on the jacket. It’s not perfect, but now he looks like a guy who’s been in a drunken bar fight instead of someone who could’ve been tortured to death. “How do I look?”

Castiel sighs. Even in Dean’s battered state, words like “beautiful” and “delicious” come to mind, but they’re past a point in their relationship where he can say that. “Like you took things too far last night.”

“Good enough.” Dean heads back to the window, taking a look around. “The Demons are still there, but they moved to the other side of the street.”

“They did?” Castiel jumps up to look over Dean’s shoulder again. “Do you see the two men at the newsstand?”

“Yeah. Friends of yours?”

“Maybe not,” Castiel admits, “But they’re Angels. I’m sure they’re all over the city by now, so I should be able to get you back to the police station.”

“The police station? Why?”

“Do you really think Alastair will give up just because you escaped him once? You still have a target on your back.”

“So? I can’t hide forever.”

“Well, I suggest you do, Dean. Hide behind your police friends, don’t go anywhere alone, and best stay away from Styx Valley all together.” For a moment it seems like Dean wants to object, but Castiel isn’t done yet. “I didn’t get shot for you so you can get yourself killed the day after. Don’t make me regret even more choices.”

They’re still standing right next to each other, their eyes locked. This time, Castiel doesn’t move away. Dean sighs. “Fine. I’ll do my best to stay alive. Better?”

“Much better.”

Castiel puts his mingled clothes back on before they’re heading to the bathroom, trying to become presentable. Standing next to Dean and looking in the mirror, Castiel can’t shake the feeling that he has to wake up once more.

After his night with Dean, Castiel thought that they could have this again. Getting ready in the morning after spending the night together, eating breakfast, making jokes about tousled hair and peach fuzz that needs shaving. Now he knows better. There’s no turning Dean. They’re as different as night and day, living in two completely different worlds. All he can do now is savor the memories.

“Let’s go.” Dean follows Castiel outside, and although there are more Angels on the street, they still stick to alleyways and backyards again. Castiel leads Dean to the 1st Precinct, approaching the building from behind. For a moment, Castiel has the crazy urge to stay with Dean, to just walk into that place and see what happens, but Dean stops at the parking lot.

“You should probably stay here,” he says, his eyes roaming the area in front of them.

Castiel nods, looking at Dean. There’s so much he wants to say, but his mind is in too much turmoil to make sense of anything. Whatever he does, it’ll make matters worse. Dean looks back at him, letting Castiel drink in the glistening green one last time. “Thank you,” he finally says, his eyes dropping to the ground.

“Dean, they’ll be hunting you.” Castiel’s stomach turns at the thought. “Promise me you stay safe.”

It’s none of Castiel’s business what Dean does, but Dean nods. “I will.”

Castiel wishes he could say anything else, prolong this moment for as long as possible, but voices are coming closer to them. Dean turns to the sound and Castiel takes one last look at him. It’s like Castiel has to burn the image into his mind.

Dean has an ugly cut over the eye, but it takes nothing away from his beauty, the freckles dotting his skin as happy as ever. The morning sun kisses his tousled hair, framing him like the most precious painting Castiel has ever seen. Dean’s lips remind Castiel of the gentle words Dean spoke to him tonight, words he will need in the lonely nights to come. At that moment, Castiel wonders how he could have believed that Dean was a Demon. He’s so much more than that. He’s better than all of them.

Before Dean can turn back, Castiel hurries along the alley, out of sight.


	11. The Angel

Dean has been pestering Bobby for two weeks to let him go back on the job, and today is the day. He runs out the door, almost tripping over a small package that someone left at the doorstep. Dean grabs it and checks the name since it wouldn’t be the first time that he got Ms. Miller's mail by accident. Sometimes Dean has a feeling that she instructed the mailman to leave her packages with Dean, so he has to bring them over to her. He refused to have tea with her ten times by now.

Getting in the car, Dean throws the package onto the passenger seat. It’s probably from Sam, something to cheer him up. Not that he needs it if Bobby just lets him get back to work again.

At the station, Dean heads right for Bobby’s office where he’s greeted with the usual grumpy “Come in!”

“Morning, Bobby!”

“You’re awfully chipper.” Bobby watches him from behind his crowded desk, looking anything but happy himself.

“Well, you didn’t tell me to stay at home, so I figured you’ve come around?”

Hope swings in his voice and Bobby makes a face. “I ain’t happy about this, but you’ve worked with the Demons, so you’re still our best chance to get them. Henriksen, the leader of the ADD, wants you on his team.”

“The Angel Demon Division? Seriously?” Dean was sure that they might let him ride a desk or patrol the inner city area. This is better than his wildest dreams.

“Henriksen thinks you might have good insights, things that aren’t in your reports.”

“Do I start right away?” Dean has a hard time sitting on his chair.

“As soon as-” Bobby interrupts himself when there’s a knock on the door. “Speak of the devil. Come in!”

A woman opens the door and comes inside. Now Dean jumps up, staring at her in surprise. “Jo, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me. How many blond police officers who can kick your ass do you know?”

Dean rushes over and hugs her. He hasn’t seen his childhood friend in years. They spoke on the phone a few times but drifted apart living so far away from each other. Jo claps his back. “Alright, get a grip, Winchester. We’re here for work.”

“Yeah, as I was saying-,” Bobby grunts, bringing Dean’s attention back to him. “You’ll have a meeting with the ADD right away. Henriksen is going to brief the new members, including you two. Jo is your new partner, Dean.”

“Awesome!” Dean grins, believing that his day couldn’t get any better. “Does that mean I can walk around the city on my own again?”

For the last two weeks, Bobby put a protective detail on him at all times, fearing that Alastair might think about finishing the job. “During the day you should be able to handle yourself, but there’ll still be two guys watching your apartment at night.”

“I can live with that.”

The more Dean beams at him, the less Bobby seems to like it. “Jo, please take him with you and make sure he knows how serious this is.”

“Will do,” Jo says, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Come on.”

While they make their way up to the fourth floor, Jo keeps asking Dean questions about his undercover work. He gives her the quick versions of all the stories that go around as rumors among some of their colleagues but leaves out big parts about Cas. It’s not like Dean tries to hide anything from her, but he doesn’t feel ready to talk about Cas at all. It’s bad enough that he keeps thinking about him. That’s one of the reasons why he’s so happy to go back to work. Distraction.

They take a seat in one of the bigger offices of the ADD where Henricksen gives his presentation. He wears a sharp suit and an even sharper expression on his face. Dean heard a lot about him, which makes him want to stay on Henriksen's good side. He doesn’t tolerate any foolish behavior.

“Alright folks,” Henriksen says when everybody settled in, “let’s dive right in. You’re all here today because our fine city is still in the grasps of two major crime families. The ADD’s one and only goal is to bring them down. Our target number one, Lucifer.”

He goes on about the Star family, former leaders of the Demons, and how Lucifer is running them now. They learn about their territories, and what their major crimes are. Dean knows all of this already, but he still listens closely, eager to stumble upon a detail that might lead to his parents’ killer.

Henriksen answers a few questions about the Demons before turning his corkboard around, showing them the main information they have about the Angels. “Now, make no mistake, these criminals might call themselves Angels but they are just as bad as the Demons,” Henriksen says, looking at them as if that’s the most important fact about the Angels.

Dean thinks about what Cas said, un unpleasant rumble going through his stomach, but then he focuses on Henriksen again. “Our main interest is Gabriel Novak,” Henriksen says, pointing at a photograph on top of the board. It has Gabriel’s name under it, and his nickname, “the Trickster.”

“After his father died, he became the head of the family. His right-hand man is Balthazar Novak,” Henriksen says. Balthazar’s picture also has the words “the Lover” under it. Dean wonders if they came up with those names themselves. “They don’t have the same mother, but their ventures in crime sure do the trick of holding them together.”

A murmur goes through the room and Henriksen’s eyebrows knit together. “Now, there’s a rumor that Gabriel is not the leader. Word on the street is that the brothers take their orders from someone called ‘The Angel.’ Nobody knows who he is and what he looks like, but it seems that even some of the Demons believe in The Angel. Of course, we don’t. For all we know, the Angels put the word out themselves to make us chase a mystery man who doesn’t exist. We will focus our efforts on cold hard facts.”

“The Angel might not be real, but I sure heard some interesting stories,” Jo whispers over to Dean. “Tell you later.”

“... the third brother who most people ignore,” Henriksen says. “The youngest half brother, Castiel Novak. As far as we know, he’s not much more than an accountant and rarely appears in public in connection to the Angels. You should still keep him in mind during your investigation. Just because we haven’t caught him dead to rights doesn’t mean he’s not guilty.”

The person sitting in front of Dean moves to the right and he finally has a clear view of the pictures again. He already knows what Gabriel and Balthazar look like, so he focuses on the third picture. It’s a very blurry profile shot, but Dean’s blood still runs cold when he sees it.

Dean doesn’t need to see the shining blue eyes on the picture to remember them in his mind. He saw this face in anger, smiling, worried, even a little scared, and filled with lust. Cas is Castiel Novak. He’s not just a lackey who does the dirty work for the Angels, but one of the Novak brothers. He’s a part of one of the biggest crime families by blood.

Dean has no idea how he could have missed that. Cas was ballsy enough to tell a cop his nickname and… nothing makes sense anymore. Like a movie, their time together runs through Dean’s mind, blocking out everything else. The jokes, the flirting, their night together. Hell, two weeks ago Dean consoled Cas over the death of his sister.

Why the hell would one of the Novak brothers be with him? Why would he rescue him? Cas told him that he only found out about Dean one night before the Demons, but what if that’s a lie, too? What if everything was a lie?

The Angels have everything. Cas must be one of the richest people in the city. If he runs around making deals and getting himself in danger, it must be out of boredom. When Dean approached him like a complete idiot that first day, he probably decided to have a little fun. It’s all a game to him. After all, what other explanation could there be?

Henriksen keeps talking, but Dean can’t make sense of his words. The same thoughts run through his mind in circles, mocking him, telling him that it was all just a big joke to Cas. Dean’s torn between anger and sadness, his eyes fixed on the picture on the wall. For brief moments, he let himself believe that he could have some sort of future with that man. How foolish. After all, he has no idea who Castiel Novak is.

Dean can barely stay in his chair. As soon as Henriksen is done, he rushes outside, taking two steps at a time on the stairs, and leaving the station. Dean can’t bear to have walls around him right now. His lungs feel restricted like he can’t get enough air. The Cas in Dean’s mind keeps taunting him. He makes Dean ask himself the same question over and over again: How could he have been so blind?

“Dean, are you alright?” Jo is standing next to him, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dean doesn’t remember falling to his knees, but he has to look up to Jo, blinking away the bright light. “No, not really.”

Jo sits down next to him, running a hand up and down his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Should you?”

Dean sighs. “I think I should.”

Jo nudges her shoulder against his. “Doesn’t have to be with me, but I want to be sure you’re okay.”

It would be easy to reassure Jo, maybe tell her that Dean will talk to Sam. They’re partners, though. Jo has to rely on him, and Dean doesn’t want to bring her in jeopardy just because he’s an idiot.

“I met this guy while I was undercover, an Angel. I like him way more than I should and it just occurred to me that he was probably just having a laugh, you know? Just, messing around with the stupid cop.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What, you’re defending Angels now?”

Jo rolls her eyes. “No, but the Demons even gave you their mark. They didn’t have a clue who you were, so I’m guessing the Angels didn’t know either. You’re a great guy, Dean. Maybe he really liked you, even as a Demon.”

Dean wants to believe her, but Cas isn’t just any Angel. He’s a Novak, and unlike the rest of the cops, Dean knows that Cas isn’t just an accountant. If Cas is willing to get his hands dirty with small deals, Dean is sure that he’s very much involved with Gabriel and Balthazar. The thought makes Dean afraid of what other things he might find out about Cas during his work with the ADD. Cas said himself that he hurt and killed people. So what kind of monster is Dean hunting here?

“What now?” he asks Jo.

“I’ll show you your desk.” Jo pats Dean on the back before getting to her feet. “And then I fear we’ll have to do some paperwork.”

“Of course,” Dean grunts, letting Jo help him up. “And I thought this would be a great day.”

 

* * *

 

After Jo shows Dean his desk, she also introduced him to all the people he most likely will have to work with. They spend the most time with a redhead named Charlie who more or less ignores Dean in favor of flirting with Jo.

Then they actually have to do paperwork, and shortly before their shift ends, Henriksen comes by Dean’s desk, asking him to give detailed reports about some of the issues where they still lack information. All in all, it’s not the great day Dean wanted it to be. Worn out, he shuffles to his car, trying his best not to think about Angels or Demons. On his drive home, Dean blasts his music as loudly as possible, only turning it down in earshot of his apartment. He has no desire to let Ms. Miller know that he’s home.

Dean grabs the little package and hurries up the stairs and through his door. He gets himself a drink, hoping that Sam actually sent him something to cheer him up. Inside the package, Dean finds a small box and a card. He reads it first.

_Hello Dean,_

_since you’re now otherwise engaged on Thursdays, I don’t think I can give you this in person. It’s just something to remember me by._

_Stay safe._

_Cas_

Dean stares at the card for a few minutes before he can read it again. Then he reads it over and over again until it loses all meaning. Dean takes a big gulp from his drink before he finds the courage to open the little box. It holds a small key, like one you would use for a cash box. It makes even less sense.

After another sip, Dean turns out the whole package, looking for more clues, but there’s nothing to clear things up. Dean remembers the cryptic note from Cas that was supposed to let him know that his cover was blown. That one wasn’t really clear, and this is even worse. “I’m sick of your riddles, Novak.”

Dean throws both the card and the box back into the package, shoving it under his new sofa. If Cas wants something, he should have the balls to talk to Dean in person. After all, he didn’t have a problem with that so far.

With a sigh, Dean gets himself another drink, knowing full well that it’s not a good idea. He puts on “there’s a moon out tonight” and sits in his misery, watching the sky through his curtainless windows.


	12. The Informant

It’s been years since Castiel has been to Evewater. His father was still alive and brought him along to meet the boss of the Leviathans. It’s not a good memory. Castiel had no desire to come back to the city, but there’s another meeting he has to attend. A meeting that could get him into a lot of trouble if it was held in Valentine.

Castiel is sitting in a corner of the Red Oyster Lounge. An establishment that takes its name very seriously. The walls, the floor, the chairs - everything is red. A waitress in a maroon dress puts down a dark cherry colored drink on his table. It’s barely visible over the burgundy tablecloth. Castiel might get a migraine from the interior design alone. He’s lucky he didn’t take any drugs before coming here.

“Hello Castiel,” a voice says next to him.

“Crowley,” Castiel says, indicating the chair opposite of him. “Please join me.”

Crowley sits down, his black appearance is somewhat soothing to Castiel’s eyes. The waitress comes back to take his drink order. They don’t speak until she brings Crowley a glass with something bright pink and a tiny umbrella and walks away again. Crowley smiles down at the drink as if he’s never seen anything as beautiful. “I like this place.”

“It could do with a little bit of color.”

Crowley huffs a laugh. “They always tell me Gabriel is the funny one. Seem like they haven’t met you.”

“Why am I here, Crowley?”

“Alright, right to business.” Crowley takes a sip through his straw with pleasure on his face. Then he takes out the tiny umbrella and rolls it around between his fingers. “I’m interested in some things you could help me with and you are interested in things I could help you with. I thought that a little talk was in order.”

“What do you think I’m interested in?”

“Oh please, Castiel. Your sister's killer of course.”

Castiel has to hide his surprise. It’s common knowledge that the Novak’s are prepared to pay top dollar for viable information about Anna’s death, but that message has gone out years ago. Crowley wouldn’t mention something so obvious. “If this is the kind of information you offer, we don’t have anything to talk about.”

“You’re subtle, I give you that. The Demons don’t care much about their lowest ranking members. If one or two disappear once in a while, who cares?” Crowley takes another sip from his drink, letting the umbrella roll over the table. “But you’ve been inviting those folks over for dinner for years, and nothing shook loose. Usually, I’d say you’re asking the wrong questions, but in your case, you’re asking the wrong people. I could tell you who to ask for the best results.”

“And what would you want for telling me who to ask?”

“Oh, nothing major. Just a little information here and there. Whatever your guests like to talk about over dinner.”

Crowley is smiling like this is a done deal, but Castiel won’t bite so easily. He knows that Crowley is right. If he wants to find out who’s responsible for Anna’s death, he needs to dig a lot deeper. So far, he didn’t dare to take one of the bigger players, not wanting to risk a war with the Demons. If he had solid information on who to ask, it might be worth the risk though.

“It’s not that you’re wrong,” Castiel says, “but I just don’t trust you.”

He gets up from his chair, but Crowley lifts his hand to stop him. “Asmodeus. You should invite Asmodeus.”

Castiel sits back down, watching Crowley intently. “And what would you want to know out of him?”

“Nothing at all. Consider him a show of good faith. I’m telling you that he knows something and I’m not asking anything in return.”

It’s hard to believe Crowley, but he already gave Castiel a name. He is trying to show good faith. “I doubt that Asmodeus would want to talk to me.”

Crowley empties his drink with an audible slurp and throws the tiny umbrella into the glass. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He made his way up the food chain over two centuries, but he’s still not at the top, having to serve the likes of Lucifer. There’s nothing better than a man with a grudge. Besides, I hear you’re an excellent cook, even better than Alastair when you put your mind to it.”

Castiel leans back, watching Crowley. He doesn’t betray the slightest discomfort under Castiel’s scrutiny. “So what say you? Do we have a deal?”

“If you even think about screwing me over, I will invite you to dinner, and you won’t leave until you tried everything I cook,” Castiel says.

It’s nice to see that Crowley swallows hard before putting his cocky grin back on. “Fair enough.”

He reaches over the table and Castiel shakes his hand. Anna died years ago. It’s time that her killer gets to feel Castiel’s wrath before anything else can take him out. “Have a nice evening,” Castiel says, getting up.

“I’ll be in touch.”

Castiel gives Crowley a small nod. Then he leaves without turning back. The walls around him are blood red, fitting for making a deal with a devil.


	13. The Head of the Snake

Dean is typing up the most boring report of his career. Although he and Jo became part of the ADD, they still have to do patrol and work normal cases. One time, they even have to drive to Ms. Miller who calls saying that some seedy people are crawling around the house. They turn out to be new neighbors.

Drinking his third coffee of the day, Dean has a hard time holding up his head so he won’t fall asleep on top of the typewriter. The door makes him jump as Charlie throws it open and storms into the room like a gust of wind. “Dean, I have something! They’re actually talking.”

“They?”

“I think it’s Gabriel.”

Dean jumps to his feet, storming out of the room. Charlie and Jo both follow, heading to Charlie’s workstation. With Bobby’s permission, they managed an undercover operation where Charlie was able to install a few bugging devices around Heaven Manor. She’s been listening to the recordings for hours, but so far got mostly static or the sound was so bad that they couldn’t make out the words. Hearing anything would be a win, but if it’s really Gabriel, they might have hit the jackpot. Both Bobby and Victor Henriksen have a close eye on Dean. He could really use the win.

At Charlie’s workplace, she unplugs her headphones so they can all hear the sound before rewinding the tape. There’s still a lot of static in the background and the voices are anything but clear, but they’re finally able to make out the words.

“... they would agree to that. I always thought they had a deeper connection to the Demons.”

“I think that’s Gabriel,” Charlie says, pausing the tape. “I’ve been listening to all the recordings we have on the Angels to recognize the voices. I just don’t know who the second person is.”

Charlie starts the tape and they can hear the other person speak. “They have a deep connection to money. And I think he likes to branch out.”

“Pause it!” Dean shouts, a shiver running down his spine.

“Why?” Charlie asks and she and Jo both stare at him.

“I know who that is.” Dean swallows hard. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Its owner whispered the sweetest things in his ear and even screamed his name with pleasure. “It’s Castiel Novak.”

“The other brother?” Charlie asks but then shrugs. “Makes sense I guess. So he is involved in the day to day business of the Angels.”

Dean can’t answer, he’s not quite sure if he’ll be able to keep listening to the tape. Jo looks at him with a worried expression. She’d understand if he chickens out, but Dean promised Bobby that he was able to do the job, and he’ll be damned if Cas ruins that for him.

“Keep going, please,” he says, and Charlie starts the recording. It’s Gabriel who speaks again.

“Anyway, we’ll surely have fun with the diamonds. I just don’t think you should be doing the deal.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, maybe because of your newest friend?”

“I told you not to bring that up.”

“It’s hard to sweep a cop under the rug. You know, as long as he’s still in one piece.”

Gabriel laughs about his own joke, but there’s no reaction from Castiel. There are sounds as if someone is pouring a drink, then Castiel speaks. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not your usual idiot of a cop.”

“Aw, you’re really sweet on him, aren’t you? Should I ask him out for you?”

“I think I can handle myself. And I’ll go to the deal, end of discussion.”

“Fine, you’re the boss.”

“When and where did you set it up?”

“O’Charley’s, tomorrow at 9.”

There’s the sound of a glass being put down on a table and a few seconds later, a door falling shut. When there’s only silence for a while after that, Charlie stops the tape. Dean checks his clock. “Wait, that was yesterday?”

“Yes,” Charlie says. “Why?”

“We have to be there. Come on.”

Dean leaves and Jo runs after him. “Dean, what do you think you’re doing?”

“You heard them. There’s a deal going down today. This is our chance!”

“You can’t just make an arrest without a warrant,” Jo says, having a hard time keeping up with Dean. “And we don’t know how many of them will show up there. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know Cas. He’ll be on his own,” Dean says. Jo still doesn’t look convinced, so Dean stops for a moment to look at her. “Can you please trust me? I need to do this.”

Jo sighs. “If you’re absolutely sure what you’re doing.”

“I am.”

“Alright, fine.” Jo still sounds annoyed, but she follows Dean to their car.

O’Charley’s is a small bar right on the border of North and South Valentine, a perfect place for shady deals. “I say we ditch the car, for now, find a good spot and watch the bar. We let them make their deal, and when they come out, we’ll grab them,” Dean suggests.

“I hope they’re worth the trouble,” Jo grunts.

She takes a quick look around inside the bar, pretending to look for somebody else while Dean checks out the surrounding area. They need to make sure that their suspects have nowhere to go and they can make an easy arrest. Shortly before 9, they split up and take position in front of the bar. After a while, a couple comes outside, arms around each other. They barely make it through the door before the taller guy shoves the other one against the wall of the building, the two of them kissing as if their life depends on it. It wrenches Dean’s heart when he’s reminded of walking home to his apartment with Cas.

The two men only give up their position as another man in a brown suit and hat approaches the entrance. The couple walks along the street while the man goes insight. To Dean, he looks like an office clerk who just enjoys having a beer in the nearest pub after work.

9 pm comes and goes. Dean fears they might have the date wrong after all, but then Cas strolls along the street. He’s wearing one of his inconspicuous black suits, his hair messed up as usual, and his cheeks covered with a shadow of scruff. The only difference is the black briefcase he’s holding. Dean has never seen him with one before and is burning with curiosity. What could be in there? Maybe money or diamonds like Gabriel said on the tape.

It’s hard for Dean not to jump up and arrest him right then and there. He sees the same Cas that he liked so much, but now Dean knows who he really is. It makes him burn with anger. He wishes he could confront Cas, make him explain why he played his silly games with Dean. For a few insane seconds, Dean wishes Cas hadn’t rescued him from that damn farmhouse. He’d rather take the cuts and bruises than the burning sensation in his chest that makes him want to scream and rip out his own heart.

Dean is so consumed by his feelings that he barely notices how Cas disappears into the bar. After a while, Jo waves over to him, and he gives her a sign to hold on. Maybe he should have thought of a better plan. They’re sitting here in the most uncomfortable positions while the men inside probably have a laugh and a drink. Dean still wants to ride it out. This is their chance, and nothing can keep him from taking Cas down tonight.

They have to wait for an hour until two men come out of the bar. Cas and the man in the brown suit. Dean signals Jo and since she’s closer to the entrance, she steps in their way, her gun raised. “Police, don’t move!”

The guy next to Cas drops the suitcase with a shriek and lifts his arms. Cas doesn’t move at all. He has his hands in his pockets, eyeing Jo as if to assess if he can take her. Dean won’t give him the chance. He walks up behind the two men, his gun raised as well. “Don’t even think about it, Novak.”

Cas turns around, his eyes finding Dean’s. “Hello, Dean.”

His voice is as deep as ever, and his tone so soft that it takes Dean’s breath away. He talks to him as if they’ve just woken up together instead of facing off with a gun between them.

“Hands behind your head, Mr. Novak,” Jo says. She gives Dean a worried look, probably sensing his struggle.

Castiel raises his hands up in slow motion, his eyes still fixed on Dean. As his hands meet behind his head, he bites his lip, looking more like a satisfied lover than a man about to go to prison. His steadiness raises Dean’s anger again. He puts his gun away as he walks over to Cas, pulling his cuffs from his belt. Reaching Cas, he takes a deep breath, getting ready to touch him. As efficiently as possible, Dean makes sure Cas doesn’t have a weapon, Dean’s hands never lingering for even a second. “Hands behind your back.”

Cas lowers his hands and turns his back to Dean. When Dean snaps the cuffs shut, Cas jumps a little. “Ouch.” His tone is offended now, his head turning to Dean. “If you wanted to see me so bad, why didn’t you just ask me out, Dean?”

Dean pulls him closer and grabs the side of Cas’ arm, his fingers digging deep into the flesh. “It’s Detective Winchester for you.”

“Of course, detective,” Cas purrs.

 

Pushing Cas forward, they move in the direction of the police car. Dean can’t help noticing that Cas isn’t worried at all. Instead, he’s smiling as big as if he just won the fucking lottery. “Could you push me a little harder? This sure brings back memories.”

“Shut up, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouts. The mockery Cas makes out of their time together makes him want to punch him right in the face. Instead, he stuffs him into the back of the car, throwing the door shut.

Dean turns away from the car, hiding his face from Cas while he takes a few deep breaths. Jo follows with their second suspect and the suitcase. After she puts the man in the back with Cas and the suitcase in the trunk, she walks over to Dean. “I hate to ask this all the time, but are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“Dean, you looked like you wanted to shoot him for saying hello.” When Dean doesn’t answer, Jo pats his back. “Don’t let him push your buttons, alright? Let’s go.”

The ride to the police station is quiet. At least Cas has the decency to listen to Dean and not open his mouth again. Dean lets Jo take Cas into the station and leads the other man inside. They put them into two different interrogation rooms to make sure that they can’t make up any stories.

By now, Bobby and Henriksen got wind of what Dean has done, and contrary to Dean’s belief, they don’t look happy. “Do you care to tell me why you put a Novak in interrogation?” Henriksen asks.

“To interrogate him, Sir.”

“Don’t get cute with us, boy,” Bobby grunts. “Just explain. And you better do it fast. We won’t have much time before at least one of his lawyers shows up.”

“Charlie has a recording-”

“We heard that,” Henriksen interrupts him. “That’s all you have?”

“We took them in right after the deal, they’re bound to have something on them.” Bobby and Henriksen share a look, still not convinced. “Just, let me do the interrogation. I’m sure I can get something out of them.”

Bobby nods. “Fine. You’ll take Novak, Jo can talk to the other guy. Let’s see if they have a good story.”

“Are you serious?” Henriksen stares at Bobby, clearly confused. “That’s one of the Novak brothers in there and you want to send in the rookie?”

“It’s how we do it here. You bring ‘em in, you better make damn sure they don’t walk out. Dean, go.”

They head to the interrogation room, Dean stepping into the room with Cas, while Bobby and Henriksen take their places inside the next room behind the mirror that’ll give them the chance to watch unseen by Cas. Dean hates that he has to speak to Cas in front of them, but there’s no other way.

Cas is leaning back against his chair, clearly not impressed. Dean does his best to control his anger and act like a professional. “Do you need something? Water?”

“No, thank you, detective. I had a drink at the bar.”

“Alright.” Dean sits down opposite of Cas, putting a thin file on the table between them. It’s all they have about the man who’s clearly way more than he admits. “Tell me about the bar. What did you do there tonight?”

“As I said, I had a drink. And I talked to a friend about a business arrangement.”

Dean doesn’t believe that Cas will admit to anything just yet, but he takes the bait. He pulls out his small notepad, ready to write down anything useful. “What kind of business arrangement?”

“My friend, Mr. Arthur Greenfield, is the manager of a group that I like to have in my employment.”

“Doing what?”

Cas tilts his head back for a moment and sighs. “Doesn’t this line of questioning bore you?”

“Just answer the question.” Dean can’t keep the annoyance completely out of his voice. His patience is already wearing thin.

Looking back at Dean, Cas smiles as if that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. “10, Riverside Street. You should check it out.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “How about you answer my questions. Then we’ll get to any other information you feel like sharing.”

“You know, I already liked you as a Demon, but the whole detective thing is hot. I wouldn’t mind going on another ride with you.”

Pictures flash in Dean’s mind, Cas on top of him, moaning. He shakes his head, trying to stay in the moment. Cas is just a suspect, nothing more. He has to keep that in mind. “What was your business arrangement with Mr. Greenfield about?”

“Music, actually.” Cas’ eyes are still fixed on Dean, but he seems to zone out for a moment, lost in thought. “I listened to it yesterday. It really begins to grow on me, you know?”

“What does?”

“There’s a moon out tonight, whoa-oh-oh-oh,” Cas sings quietly, his deep voice wafting through the tiny room.

Dean gets to his feet, facing the door for a moment. He’s no longer just angry, he begins to hate Cas. Dean made so many sacrifices working for the Demons. He did things in those few couple of weeks that he can never undo, horrible things. Still, what will haunt him the most is his time with Cas. The Demons might draw blood, but Cas is bleeding Dean’s soul, and he does so with a smile. The Angels are as bad as the Demons, maybe even worse.

“You might have wondered,” Cas says behind him, “why I thanked you in the end. Nobody ever treated me like you did. It meant a lot to me. It still does.”

A new wave of anger washing over him, Dean turns around. “You don’t deserve to be treated with kindness or anything like that. You’re the scum of this city. You should be put in a cell and kept there to rot.”

For just a moment, Cas’ face seems to fall, but then the smile comes back. It’s empty, malicious, and nothing like Dean has ever seen on him. “See, now that’s the Dean Winchester I’m interested in. You made it longer undercover than anybody else in recent years. Don’t you think there’s a reason for that? Deep down, you have a dark side, and I think it’s ready to come out.”

“What I have or don’t have doesn’t matter. We’re here because of you.” Dean walks back to the table but doesn’t sit down. “Tell me about your arrangement with Mr. Greenfield.”

“Alastair didn’t off you right away because he knew. I bet he thought about coaxing it out of you, make you his partner in crime.”

Dean runs a hand through his hair. He knew that this wouldn’t be easy, but he at least thought that he could have a normal conversation with Cas. “Are you done with your monologue?”

Cas keeps smiling at him, his eyes penetrating Dean in a way that makes him want to hide under the damn table. “I bet you became a cop to protect you from yourself. With a past like yours, you had a lot of pent up anger, the desire for revenge.”

“Are you my therapist now?”

“Just speaking from observation. You don’t need a gun and a badge, Dean. You’re a hunter. Your touch burns, your eyes make people reveal their darkest secrets, you can make a man go down on his knees without a word.”

Dean doesn’t like where the conversation is heading. He begins to remember things again. Skin against skin, heat, the smell of sweat and sex in the air. “This isn’t relevant-”

“You could ask me and I would. It could be so good, Dean, so damn good.”

“I told you, it’s Detective-”

“Winchester. Yes, I know. Like your father.”

The words hit him like a slap in the face. Cas voice switches with them, from a velvety purr to something dark and sinister. He wants to hurt him now. “You know nothing about my father,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“I know he wasn’t fast enough to save your mommy.”

The rage that was boiling inside of Dean finally bubbles to the surface. It’s as if it makes him leave his own body, and from above he can see himself lose control. He grabs the table and throws it to the side with so much force that it flips over. Cas stays in his chair, not even flinching before Dean’s fist makes contact with his face. Cas’ head is thrown to the side, blood spattering. His lip splits open and a bruise immediately begins to form on his cheek.

Cas runs his tongue along his lip and he smiles again, but it’s no longer cynical and mean but soft. He only looked at Dean like that when they were in bed together, as close as you can possibly be. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t have a chance to answer. Henriksen storms into the room. He grabs Dean and shoves him outside where Bobby is waiting. “In there,” Bobby says, and by his voice, Dean can tell that he’s in deep shit. There’s only one time when Dean heard him this angry. Dean was still young back then and he and Sam had the glorious idea to jump off the roof.

While Henriksen walks back into the interrogation room, Dean follows Bobby into the other office. Bobby spins around with his wheelchair, fuming like a volcano that’s about to erupt. “Have you completely lost your mind? You can’t just attack a suspect! Do you have any idea what kind of hell he can rain down on us now?”

“I’m sorry, Bobby. When he talked about mom-”

“Well, boho. I’m sorry your feelings got hurt, princess.”

“But he-”

“He’s a criminal, Dean! What did you think he would do? Confess everything and give you a foot rub for good measure afterward? You’re supposed to be a professional police officer. I never would’ve let you in there if I knew that you can’t handle a simple interrogation.”

Bobby goes quiet, breathing heavily from all the shouting. Dean wishes there was something he could say, but instead, he becomes invested in the spots on the dark carpet. A few minutes tick by in an oppressive silence until Hendriksen joins them. He closes the door behind him with a sigh.

“How bad is it, Victor?” Bobby asks.

“We’re in luck if you can call it that. Novak assured me that he won’t press charges, but he asked for his lawyer, so I guess fun time is over.”

Dean’s heart begins to race in his chest. What he went through can’t be all for nothing. “You can’t just let him go!”

“Sit down, detective,” Henriksen barks.

When Dean reluctantly takes a chair, Henriksen leans back against the door, rubbing his forehead. “We have absolutely nothing. I just talked to detective Harvelle. Mr. Greenfield is the manager of a children’s band called ‘Woody and the Diamonds.’ He very believably assured her that Mr. Novak hired them to play at a few upcoming birthday parties. All of that checks out.”

“But the tape-”

“Is gone. Not that it matters since there’s nothing of interest on there.”

Dean stares at Hendriksen with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Gone?”

“Detective Bradbury just informed me that it must have been stolen. She can’t find the tape anywhere.”

Bobby grunts. “Told you we’re not only amongst our own anymore. There are rats everywhere.”

“This doesn’t make sense. What’s in the briefcase then?” Dean asks.

“Toys. Mr. Greenfield said that Mr. Novak gave them to him for the next time when ‘Woody and the Diamonds’ play at the children's hospital.”

Dean feels like falling from a great height. Henriksen pulls out everything from under him and he’s plummeting to earth without a safety net. “I don’t understand.”

Bobby shakes his head before sharing a look with Hendriksen. “Novak played us, Dean. He played you.”

Henriksen nods. “Didn’t it strike you as odd, that you didn’t record anything at all and then all of a sudden, you get two Novak brothers talking openly about a deal, serving you time and location on a silver platter?”

Dean’s heart drops. “They staged it.”

“That would be my guess, yes. They wanted us to be there and arrest them. Now whenever we have something on them, it will look like police harassment. Instead of catching real criminals, we arrest a local businessman who tried to hire a children’s band for birthday parties. That’s the worst bad press right there.”

“And I hit him,” Dean sighs, running his hands over his face as if he can wash himself clean from such a stupid mistake. “I guess you want me out of the ADD then.”

Bobby and Hendriksen share another look. “Not yet,” Henriksen says. “You certainly didn’t help the cause, but you wouldn’t be the first one to fall for one of their traps. They’re one step ahead because they don’t have a shred of decency.”

“It’s my fault, too,” Bobby says. “I know how they operate. I shouldn’t have sent you in there. Novak must have counted his blessings when you of all people arrested him. He used his knowledge about you to tip you over the edge. I’ve definitely seen that before.”

“So what now?”

“I’ll make sure that Novak really keeps this between us.” Henriksen sighs when opening the door. “And detective? Remember that feeling you have right now. It might help you the next time you have any bright ideas. And if you do, contact us first. I told Detective Harvelle the same thing.”

“It was my fault,” Dean admits. “She had her doubts but went along as my partner.”

Henriksen nods. He probably guessed that much. When he’s gone, Dean turns to Bobby. “I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are. I can’t even blame you with the way he talked about your mom and dad.” Bobby gives him a moment, but when Dean doesn’t say anything, he leans over to catch Dean’s eye. “The other things he said, is there anything I need to know?”

Dean huffs. “You heard him. He’s some psycho freak without a conscience.”

“Hey, just checking.” Bobby comes closer to Dean and taps him on the back. “Don’t take it too hard. As Victor said, we’ve all been there. Just try to keep your wits about you in the future.”

“I will, Bobby. I swear.”

“Better go home then. Drink a beer, calm down, and get some rest.”

“Sure.”

Bobby heads outside and pushes himself along the corridor. As Dean follows him, the door on the opposite side opens and Cas steps outside. A woman with dark hair follows him. “Let’s go,” she says as if Bobby and Dean weren’t there.

She marches along the corridor, but Cas has only eyes for Dean. Blue meets green, the two of them staring at each other as if they want for the world to explode around them.

“Dean,” Bobby says, his tone pleading.

Dean takes a step to the side, making more room for Cas. Walking past him, Cas’ shoulder still brushes along Dean’s side. “Goodnight, Dean.”

His tone is light, just like the first time he said those words to Dean. Dean has a feeling that this won’t be the last time he sees Cas, and in a horribly twisted way, he’s actually glad about it.


	14. Party Time

“Are we really doing this?” Gabriel asks as the limousine drives up the long driveway to the mayor’s mansion. 

Castiel watches the well-maintained garden crawl past them outside. “You of all people should love a good party.”

“Yeah, but unlike you, Balthy and I have a certain reputation. And the place is going to crawl with cops.”

“You were invited by the mayor himself,” Castiel says. “As long as you behave yourself, the cops won’t touch you.”

“It’s not like they can keep us for long anyway.” Balthazar raises his champagne glass and toasts to Gabriel.

“Alright, true.” The limousine stops, and Gabriel is the first one to get out. “Then let’s show these people how to party.”

Balthazar and Gabriel leave Castiel behind, quickly disappearing in the crowd, but he doesn’t mind. At the rare occasions when he goes to these events, he mainly sticks to the bar. This time is no different. Castiel gets a drink before walking around to watch how the other people interact with each other. He has a neck for reading people. It’s always fun to see them lie and pretend, hiding behind masks of glamour and good intentions. 

“Mr. Novak, I’m glad you could make it.” The voice of the mayor slices through the crowd, hitting Castiel like a whip. He wishes he could walk away, but instead, he puts on a mask like everybody else. “Mayor Smith, thank you again for the invitation.”

“Please, call me Zachariah.”

“Then it’s Castiel for you.”

They shake hands, Zachariah beaming at Castiel as if he’s the Guest of honor. If Castiel didn’t know that Zachariah was trying to find investors for his next campaign, he might have actually believed him. “Are your brothers here as well?”

“Yes. Probably trying to seduce somebody somewhere.”

“Oh, there should be plenty of opportunities. I think my wife invited the whole city.”

That’s somewhat true. Castiel already spotted a lot of faces he knows. The guests are either wealthy or well connected or both. To Castiel’s ire, there are Demons among them as well. “I see her hand in all of this,” Castiel says, indicating the decorations around them. “She really outdid herself this time.”

“I’ll let her know you said that,” Zachariah says, clapping Castiel’s shoulder. “She had a hard time, though, with all the security. In fact, I have to see that you’re looked after.”

“I’m perfectly fine on my o-”

“No no, I fear I have to insist,” Zachariah says, looking around. Then, his face lights up as he spots someone behind Castiel, waving them closer. “Hi, I’m sorry, what was your name again?” 

“Detective Dean Winchester, sir.”

Castiel freezes. He never expected to run into Dean only two days after the interrogation, especially not at such an event.

“Ah yes, so good of the chief to lend us his people.” Zachariah grabs Castiel by the shoulders and turns him around. “Detective, would you please do me a favor and look after Mr. Novak for the rest of the evening? I know you’re here for everybody, but I’d feel better if I knew that you’ll stay with him.”

Castiel wants to tell the mayor that he doesn’t need a bodyguard, but as soon as Castiel’s eyes land on Dean, he’s lost for words. Dean is wearing a deep burgundy suit over a black shirt, the smooth fabric hugging his body in all the right places. He’s even forgone the tie, the top button of his shirt open. It’s a tragedy that Dean looks more like a demon now than he’s ever done before. 

The muscles of Dean’s jaw work under his skin as if he’s grinding his teeth, but then he gives Zachariah a smile. “Of course. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Great.” Zachariah shakes Castiel’s hand. “You’re in good hands then. Please enjoy yourself.”

Castiel finally finds his voice. “I will. Thank you,” he says, his eyes still on Dean. As soon as Zachariah leaves, Castiel smiles. “You know, I’d be happy to be in those hands.”

“Oh shut up and just do whatever you rich guys do at these parties.”

“Well, I usually drink,” Castiel says, lifting his glass. “And then I find the hottest guy at the party and try to seduce him. So, two for two.”

Dean scuffs, but a little color rises to his cheeks. The sight makes Castiel’s body tingle. He steps closer to Dean, lifting his hand. “In light of recent events, you don’t mind if I check, right?”

“Check what?”

“Dean, you bugged my home. I don’t feel comfortable talking to people in front of you if I can’t be sure that you aren’t wearing a wire.”

Dean bites his lip as if he needs to swallow another insult. Then he lifts his arms, holding open his jacket. “Fine. Check.”

Castiel carefully runs his hand along Dean’s chest, feeling the muscles straining against the thin fabric. Then he steps closer, his arm reaching around Dean to check his back. As his hand moves lower, Dean grunts. “There’s nothing strapped to my ass, so I think we’re done here.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says, stepping back. “Force of habit.”

Dean opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he closes it again, looking anywhere but Castiel. It makes Castiel believe that Dean’s bosses gave him the order to control himself around him.

“Do you want a drink? Just because you’re bound to me-” Castiel says, touching his tie, “doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself.”

“No.” Dean takes the glass out of his hand and takes a swig before handing it back. “I don’t drink on the job.”

Castiel remembers the bottle they shared while hiding from the Demons. It seems so long ago, at a time when Dean didn’t hate him. It makes Castiel wonder what changed. It can't be about their little stunt with the recording. Dean was already angry at him before that.

“I can ask the mayor to have somebody else look after me, Dean. There’s no need for you-”

“Oh Jimmy,” a voice interrupts him, singing the name instead of saying it. Castiel closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. Meg is the last person he wants to see right now. Still, he turns around and she smiles. “Or should I say Castiel?”

“Meg,” Castiel says, staying with his usual greeting for her. He doesn’t want to know how and when she came by his real name.

Meg’s eyes wander over to Dean, and Castiel enjoys her annoyed expression. “I thought you would throw out your boy toy after finding out who he is.”

Before Castiel can answer, another woman joins them. She has red hair that’s pinned up in the back, with some loose strands framing her face, and she wears a matching red dress. Although they never spoke before, Castiel knows who she is. Rowena MacLeod, the leader of the Coven. “Meg, be a dear and introduce me to these fine gentlemen?”

“That’s Castiel Novak,” Meg says, somewhat reluctant, but obviously not wanting to get in trouble with her boss. “He’s the one who suggested our joined deal with the Demons. And his boyfriend, Detective Dean Winchester.”

“Not his boyfriend,” Dean says over Castiel’s shoulder. “But the detective part is correct.”

Castiel takes Rowena’s hand, bending down to kiss it. “A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Rowena.”

“Oh, but the pleasure is all mine. Meg didn’t lie for a change, you are a handsome Angel. You know, despite the-” Rowena waves her hand, indicating his face while Meg looks as if she either wants to be swallowed by the ground or burrow a knife in Rowena’s back.

Her comment reminds Castiel of his split lip and the bruise on his face. Maybe that’s why Zachariah felt the need to give him extra protection. He must think that someone has it out for Castiel.

“So, tweety pie, if Dean says he’s not your boyfriend, then you’re unattached?”

Castiel struggles to answer. Aside from Meg, it’s been a while since a woman hit on him, especially one the likes of Rowena. She’d probably claw your eyes out in bed and all you’d be able to do is ask for more. “I’m still hoping for him to come around,” he says, nodding at Dean.

“Oh well, guess I have to look out for your brothers then.”

“Of course. I’m sure you’d get along with Gabriel quite splendidly.”

Rowena smiles and waves Meg along. “Let’s look for better pray then, dear. Come on.”

They disappear in the crowd, giving Castiel the idea to head for the bar after all. He’s not in the mood to be recognized by anybody else. Dean follows him. Castiel sits down at the end of the bar while Dean takes a position next to him, facing the crowd. He couldn’t make it any clearer that they don’t belong together. 

Castiel orders another drink. The best cause of action for him will be to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol if he wants to get through the rest of the day.

“Cassie, you bastard!” Balthazar plops down on the seat next to Castiel. “Care to tell me why you sent the sexy redhead to Gabriel instead of me?”

“Not now, Balthazar.” Castiel gives Dean a quick glance. He has no intention of having a brotherly discussion in front of him.

Unfortunately, Balthazar spots Dean as well. “Well hello, Detective Winchester. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dean’s answer is an angry look full of destain. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’m interrupting something. Why don’t you two crazy kids take the limousine, huh? Get out of those stuffy suits?”

“Yeah, right,” Dean huffs.

Castiel shakes his head. “Just leave it, Balthazar.”

Something in his eyes must betray how he feels. Balthazar straightens up, turning to Dean. “Don’t you turn up your nose at my brother. He saved you from Alastair’s hell, and he could throw you back in.”

“Is that a threat?” Dean asks.

“Oh, just some free information. That way you don’t have to obtain it in secret.”

“You sure seem to have something to hide if it bothers you so much.” Dean glares at Balthazar. Whatever restraints they put on him regarding Castiel doesn’t seem to include his brothers.

“I’ll tell you what he has to hide,” Balthazar says, nodding back at Castiel.

“Balthazar,” Castiel hisses, but Balthazar steps closer to Dean. 

“Do you really think you would’ve made it a single day with the Demons out for your blood if it wasn’t for Castiel? It’s not that ridiculous police patrol that keeps you save, it’s him. You should show him some respect.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel says again and this time, his brother jumps at the sound of his voice. “Walk away. Now.”

Balthazar shrugs as if he doesn’t care, leaving without looking at either of them. Castiel turns to Dean. “My apologies,” he says.

“For what? You really have to be more specific.”

“Balthazar, for one thing, but mainly for what I said about your parents. It was unnecessary and in bad taste. I know how it feels to lose family, I should know better than to pour salt into that wound.”

Dean watches him closely as if to check that he’s telling the truth. His eyes rest on Castiel’s cheek for a while before wandering to his lips. “I’m sorry that I hit you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You had every reason-”

“No,” Dean bluffs. “Whatever tasteless thing you say, that doesn’t give me the right to hurt you.”

“Says who?”

“The law, Cas. For some people, that’s a thing.”

Castiel laughs. “See, that’s your problem, Dean. What has the law ever done for you? The killer of your parents is still at large and you don’t even know who it is. You let yourself get branded for nothing.”

“And I can look back and know that I did the right thing.” Dean comes closer to Castiel, holding his arm where the mark is hidden under his suit. “Why would you even care?”

“Believe it or not, but I care a great deal about you.” Castiel leans in as if he has to tell Dean a secret. “I could help you. We could get rid of your demons.”

“Help me how?” Dean sneers, but then his face falls, his skin ashen. “You’re the boss. Gabriel said that. And Balthazar just flat out told me that you are the one who gives the orders.”

“Maybe you haven’t figured that out yet, but my brothers are idiots.”

“No,” Dean says, staring at Castiel as if he sees him for the first time. “You give the orders for the Angels, you play with the Demons like a puppet master, you are the head of the snake.”

Dean’s eyes grow even bigger. “You are The Angel.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not him.”

Castiel tries to hold Dean’s gaze, but those damn green eyes are searching his soul. He wants to say something, come up with a lie, but the words don’t come. Dean always rips off his mask. Castiel looks to the ground.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean turns around as if even looking at Castiel is an offense. 

“Dean, I’m still the same person. I’m exactly who you met back at the docks. I’m the man you spend the night-”

“That’s enough!” Dean shouts.

The people around them turn their heads, looking for the source of the commotion. Dean grabs Castiel’s arm in a tight grip, leading him away from the bar and along the mayor’s pool house. As soon as they’re out of sight of the other guests, Dean throws Castiel against the wall. He presses his arm square over his chest to keep him in place.

“Listen, you son of a bitch,” Dean says, “whatever silly little games you’ve been playing with me and what twisted sort of relationship you think we have, that’s all over now. I will arrest you again, and when I do, there will be no way for you to get out of it. I will put you into jail where you belong.”

Dean takes a last look at Castiel as if he has to hammer the point home. Then, he storms along the house and out of sight.

Castiel tips his head back against the wall. All he wanted was to help Dean, make him see what he means to him. Instead, he fucked everything up beyond repair. With a sigh, he pushes himself away from the wall and walks back to the party. 

Dean is standing next to the bar again, watching the guests. Castiel walks past him to get out of the place as quickly as possible. As he comes closer to the gate, Dean follows him. He might hate him, but he takes his work very seriously. 

While the valet fetches Castiel’s driver to get the limousine, Dean walks over to his own car that’s parked in a line with a few police cars. He’s a few steps away when he begins to shout, “Son of a bitch! No no no! What did they do to you?”

Dean runs his hand over the side of his car. Castiel can’t help but step closer. The entire side of the car has deep scratches and somebody carved a symbol into the paint of the hood. As soon as Castiel gets a good look at it, he knows exactly who did this. He’d recognize the Sigil of Abaddon anywhere. She has a thing for letting people know who’s hurting them.

Castiel’s anger flares like a bonfire. He might have to let Dean go, but Dean is still under his protection. Somebody is going to pay for this.

“I know a guy who does wonders with-” he begins, but Dean spins around as if he wants to shoot him right there.

“I swear to god, Cas, walk away, or I’ll punch you again.”

Castiel lifts his hands and steps back. Dean turns to his car, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Mr. Novak? Your car is here, sir.”

For a moment, Castiel hesitates, but there’s really nothing he can do. He follows the valet and gets into the limousine. As they drive past the same trees and bushes as before, Castiel wonders how he managed to do so much damage in so little time. 

He reaches into his inner pocket and fishes out a piece of paper. As soon as Henriksen left Castiel after the interrogation, he couldn’t help himself and picked up the notepad Dean dropped. Most of Dean’s notes were cryptic scribbles that probably only make sense to himself, but one page drew Castiel’s attention. 

“Why do I still like him so much?”

Castiel ripped out the page and kept it, hoping against hope that the note was about him. Even if it is, he can’t know how old it is, and by now, it’s mood anyway. Castiel crumples up the paper in his fist. 

For a few weeks, he believed that his life could be different, happy. Now he knows better.


	15. Guardian Cop

Dean stares at the page in front of him until the letters begin to blur. He read the same sentence four times now, but it just won’t make sense. His mind is too occupied with the last conversation he had with Cas. Although Cas didn’t use the words, Dean is sure that he’s, in fact, The Angel. The problem is that nobody else believes it.

Cops like Bobby, Henriksen, and even Jo think that Cas just does his brother’s bidding, the tiniest fish in the tank. And the outside world, like for example the mayor, believe that Cas is nothing more than a rich guy and businessman. Cas played them all. It’s actually pretty impressive.

“Detective Winchester?”

Dean looks up, his eyes falling on a young officer who’s standing in the doorway, looking around like he’s not sure who to talk to.

“That’s me. Can I help you?”

“Um, I have a message. There’s a young man at the information desk, Jack Kline. He seems to be in some kind of trouble, but only wants to talk to you.”

“He asked for me by name?”

“Yes.”

Dean gets to his feet, his mind racing even more. He’s usually pretty good with names, but he can’t remember a Jack or any Kline involved with one of his cases. “Alright, I’m coming.”

Arriving at the information desk, he finds a young man who looks nothing like people his age should look like. His hair is perfectly parted and in place, and he’s wearing a suit jacket. “Detective Winchester?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Jack shakes his hand, beaming at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Um, Jack, no offense, but I’m very busy. What’s this about?”

“Castiel told me to talk to you if I’m ever in trouble, and I fear I might be.”

Dean’s heart almost leaps out of his chest. He wasn’t prepared for such a bombshell. “Come with me.”

He leads Jack to a small room next to his office. It’s not for interrogations, but they often use it to talk to family members or if some of the victims need a private space. They sit down at one of the tables and Dean takes a deep breath. “Alright, let’s start from the beginning. How do you know Castiel?”

“He’s been good friends with my mom since they’ve been teenagers. And now he’s taking care of me.”

Every time Dean thinks he has a clear picture of Cas, something like this happens. How elusive is that damn Angel? “Why? Where’s your mom?”

“She died from cancer a few years ago,” Jack says, watching the floor. His voice loses all cheeriness now. “Castiel took me in because my mom didn’t want me to be with my father.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Dean says. When Jack gives him a courageous smile, he dares to dig deeper. “Why wouldn’t she want you to be with your father?”

“He did crazy things, like burning our house down. And he was cruel and controlling. Castiel always asked her to leave him, but she was afraid that he might hurt me if she did. She only agreed when she knew that she was about to die.” Jack takes another moment to stare at the carpet, preparing himself for the next words. “My father is Lucifer Star.”

Dean can’t help but stare at Jack. The police know that Lucifer has a son, and there were rumors that his wife died, but they don’t have any knowledge about names or dates. “And Castiel took you in?”

Jack smiles again. “Yes. I’m allowed to stay in Heaven Manor whenever I want, and Castiel made sure that I can go to school and have friends. At first, some Demons were looking for me, but there have always been enough Angels around to protect me, and eventually, they gave up. Well, until now.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know, but they started following me again. Castiel made sure that the Angels watch out for me, but they can’t be everywhere all the time. So he gave me the locations of a lot of safe places to go in the city. That’s why I’m here.”

“The police station is one of your safe places?”

Jack furrows his brows, thinking about the question. “Technically, you are. Castiel told me that I can trust you. It’s just that you are inside the police station, so…”

“Yeah, okay. I get it.” Dean runs his hands over his face, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Castiel wants Jack to trust him of all people. So far, Jack has answered all of Dean’s questions without pause. He definitely doesn’t have the distrust of your usual Angel. It’s tempting to ask him a few more questions, but the thought makes Dean’s stomach turn. It seems that Castiel is the only thing that stands between Jack and Lucifer.

“Can I call Castiel?” Jack asks. “I’m sure he’ll pick me up.”

“Yeah, sure.” They head into the office next door and Dean sits Jack down at his desk. He watches as Jack dials, but can’t hear what is said on the other line. At first, Jack answers a few time with yes and no, then he says, “You were born out of love, and you should live with love.”

After that, Jack begins to tap on the desk with one hand, like he’s waiting for something. Then he smiles. “Yes, it’s me. I’m with Dean at the police station. I saw the car again, and they were coming closer, so I came in here. Can you pick me up?” He waits but doesn’t seem to get an answer. “Castiel?”

Dean holds his breath, but a second later, Jack gives him a thumbs up and hangs up the phone. “He’s coming.”

“Great. You want to eat something while we wait?”

“Do you have nougat? I love nougat.”

 

* * *

 

Dean is sitting in the break room with Jack when the door opens and Cas comes inside. He looks more like a Mafia don than he ever has before. He’s wearing a black coat over his perfectly tailored suit and a matching hat. A silver chain runs along his stomach to the pocket of his vest, where he must carry his watch. “Jack,” he says with a soft smile. His face reminds Dean eerily of the person he thought he knew when Dean’s still been undercover.

Jack jumps up. “Father!”

Cas puts an arm around him and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you alright? They didn’t try anything?”

“No, but it’s been worse than before and I feared that they might come closer. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Cas puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezes. “You did the right thing. Would you just wait outside for a moment, I want to have a word with Detective Winchester.”

“Alright.” Jack turns around with a big smile and waves at Dean. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Jack!”

Jack closes the door behind him, but Cas still waits for a few seconds before he speaks. “Thank you for having an eye on him. I didn’t mean to resort to outside help, but for an Angel, it’s not exactly easy to find a safe place in the center of the city.”

“Maybe you should teach him to be more careful.”

“Careful how?”

Dean gets up from his chair, walking closer to Cas. “I asked him who he was, and why he came to me. He told me everything without pause.”

Cas tilts his head like a confused puppy. “Dean, he’s a teenager. There’s nothing he knows that he couldn’t tell you. And you’re a police officer. Of course, he answers your questions.”

“So, he’s not part of the gang yet? How long do you guys wait before you give out your wings?”

“No, he’s not.” Now it’s Castiel who steps closer. “And not that it’s any of your concern, but he never will be. I promised his mother that I’ll look out for him, and I care to keep that promise.”

“Does it have anything to do with me?” The question ran through Dean’s mind while they were waiting. “Balthazar said that you’re protecting me. Is that the reason they’re following him again.”

“A little self-centered, aren’t you?”

“Does it or not?”

Cas’ eyebrows knit together, his face full of disgust. “They’re Demons, they don’t need a reason to be evil.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“No Dean, I’m just done with your questions.”

He leaves without looking back. Dean steps into the doorway and watches him walk away with Jack. His step has lost a lot of its bravado, and his face looked pale and sick. Even worse, there was nothing left of the blinding shine in Cas’ eyes. Something is terribly wrong, and although Dean shouldn’t care at all, he feels cold and empty. It’s one of those days when he leaves early, getting a nice bottle before driving home. He’s going to need it.


	16. Candyland

Castiel stumbles to the bar, not caring that he bumps into a few of the people on the way. He’s not as drunk as he could be, but it would be quite a stretch to call him sober. Usually, he would cut himself off before he can do anything stupid, but in Gabriel’s club, getting out of line is part of the experience. Passing out on any of the sofas that stand in every niche in “Candyland” is also not a problem when you’re the owner’s brother.

The bartender serves Castiel the second he spots him, making one of the other waiting guests raise his voice in anger. “Hey you, there’s a line!” 

Castiel walks over to him, standing as straight as he possibly can in his state. “Do you really think that I have to wait in line, boy?”

The loudmouth swallows hard. Before he can say anything else, someone grabs his arm and pulls him back. From out of the crowd, Castiel can hear a hushed voice. “Dumb bastard, how can he not know who that is?”

The bartender rushes over to hand Castiel his drink. Castiel takes the glass and the crowd in front of him parts to let him through. He walks right over to a restricted area and past a giant of a guard. At the end of steep stairs, he steps into a dark corridor with lots of doors, most of them leading to storage rooms. Not so much the last one. Another giant opens it for Castiel and closes it behind him.

Inside, another guy is bending down over a figure that’s tied to a chair. He punches him in the stomach, eliciting a pained grown. Castiel puts a hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk to him, Gadreel.”

Gadreel gives him a nod and positions himself next to the door while Castiel bends down to the poor sob on the chair. “Drexel, we’ve talked about this. Show some respect and look at me.”

Drexel takes big gulps of air, wincing when he lifts his head to look at Castiel. He’s bleeding out of several wounds all over his body. “That’s better. Now, I’ll ask again, and I suggest you answer this time. Who damaged the Impala?”

Shaking his head, Drexel looks down again, spitting blood. He barely misses Castiel’s shoes. With a sigh, Castiel holds out his hand to Gadreel. “Your piece.”

Gadreel hands his gun over to Castiel who takes another sip from his glass before giving it to Gadreel. “Look, Drexel, we could play this game for days, but I’m not in the mood, and you’re not important. So, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Castiel puts the gun to Drexel’s head. “May God have mercy…”

“Alright, alright,” Drexel squeals. “It was me, goddammit.” Tears start streaming down his face, leaving ugly lines on his blood covered cheeks. “Alastair thought that Angels helped the cop and then you guys said he was off limits. Abaddon wanted you to know that we can get to him.”

“See? Don’t you feel better now?” Castiel crouches down, looking up into Drexel's face, the gun still resting against his head. “Now, I have a message for Abaddon. Do you think you can go back and give it to her?”

“Yes, yes,” Drexel studders, “I’ll tell her anything.”

Castiel hears the door open behind him, but his eyes are fixed on Drexel. “If I hear about a Demon even looking at Dean Winchester the wrong way, I will consider it an act of war. There will be retaliation, no warning. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I do.” 

Castiel pulls back the gun and gets up. As Drexel starts sobbing for real now, Castiel pads his head. “It’s alright. You’re doing good.”

He turns around and finds Gabriel standing in the doorway. Castiel gives the gun back to Gadreel who hands him a handkerchief first to clean his hands and then follows it up with Castiel’s drink. Gabriel disappears into the corridor, Castiel following him.

“An act of war?” Gabriel asks. For once, he sounds dead serious. “You want to start a war over a cop who’s not even in our pocket and actively tries to lock you up?”

“Yes.” Castiel surprises himself by how quickly the answer comes out of his mouth.

Gabriel shakes his head but doesn’t question his decision. “Guess we should make good use of our time on this earth then.”

He hands Castiel a little pill, who immediately washes it down with a drink. While Gabriel leads Castiel through the crowd, he takes a look at the dancing people. There are couples holding each other, laughing, whispering into each other's ear. Right beside them stands a tall man, his long brown hair barely beat into submission. Castiel has a feeling that he has seen his face before. The stranger is bending down to a woman with long dark hair, and although she seems right as familiar as the man, the picture of them together clashes in Castiel’s mind.

Something isn’t right, but before he can figure it out, Gabriel pulls him past the couple. The pills and booze do the rest. First, he doesn’t care anymore, and soon he’ll forget.


	17. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Dean hates meeting new people, especially in places like this. Gabriel’s “Candyland” is full of loud, rich snobs, and furniture that look so expensive that they should be surrounded by robes and put into a museum. Not to speak of all the bowls of candy. Who the hell does that?

The only reason for Dean to set foot in this place is Sam, or better yet, his new girlfriend. Sam wants to introduce her to Dean, and she couldn’t be persuaded to go anywhere else. Sam and Lilly are squished together on a sofa while Dean is launching in an armchair. He wouldn’t want to give anybody the opportunity to sit next to him.

Sipping on his drink, Dean does his best to follow the story of how Sam and Lilly met, but he can’t shake the thought that he’s right in the Lion’s den. “Candyland” is sovereign territory for the Angels, and after what Dean said to Cas, he might be enemy number one.

“That’s really cute,” Dean comments Lilly’s story as soon as she stops talking. Sam gives him a bitch face behind her back, but Lilly smiles and Dean thinks it might be best to keep her talking. “What do you do for a living? Sam’s explanation wasn’t really clear.”

Lilly takes a deep breath, venturing into the next long story. Dean feels safe to take a look around, almost hoping to catch someone committing a crime. At first, all Dean can see are couples or two people on the verge of becoming one, even if just for one night. Then, he spots a whole group of people clustered together as if they were planning on starting an orgy. He’s not surprised to see Balthazar in their midst.

Not interested in watching this, Dean wants to look away, but then the two other Novak brothers join the group. Gabriel helps a beautiful dark-haired woman out of a chair, just to pull her back on his lap as soon as he’s taken her place. On a sofa next to them sits a guy in an expensive suit, his dark blonde hair slicked back and champagne in his hand. He moves over and taps the sofa, saying something to Cas.

The scene seems to play out in slow motion in front of Dean’s eyes. He would bet good money that Cas will walk away, but Cas smiles, sitting down a lot closer than he has to, judging by the space on the sofa. Blondie leans over to him, offering his drink. Dean wants to turn away, but his eyes are glued to Cas, a burning fire erupting in his chest.

“Dean? Are you listening?” Sam gives him a very obvious bitch face now, while Lilly looks confused.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean stumbles. “It’s a cop thing. I see something weird and then I have to make sure it’s not as bad as I thought. You were saying?”

Lilly dives back into her story and Dean manages five minutes of uninterrupted listening time before he wants to rip his ears off. Lilly is bubbly and annoying. Everything she says seems like read from a script of a perfect person. While Dean would love for Sam to find a nice partner, he could surely do with someone more interesting.

Dean excuses himself as fast as possible, even if Sam is going to scold him for it later. In an attempt to soothe the flame that still burns in his chest, Dean takes a seat at the bar and orders two drinks at once. He downs the first one in one go before turning his attention to the second one. While he didn’t plan to watch the Novak brothers, his eyes find their way over to their corner again. Gabriel is kissing the pretty woman on his lap while Balthazar is sharing candy mouth to mouth with anybody in close vicinity.

Castiel and the blond man are gone, though. The fire flares up again, and Dean throws caution in the wind, downing his second drink.

“You are a peculiar one, Dean Winchester.”

Dean jumps, almost falling from his chair. Cas’ voice is so close as if he’s speaking in his mind. He’s leaning against the bar next to Dean, the other guy nowhere in sight. “Where did you leave your friend?” Dean asks.

“Friend?”

“Tall blonde guy, expensive suit, talked to you five minutes ago.”

Cas frowns at Dean for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Bartholomew. I have no idea and I can’t say that I care.”

The flame in Dean’s chest dies down at the thought of Castiel talking to him instead. He hates himself for it, but at least he can make good use of the chance to talk to Cas, maybe reveal something he can use to get him. “Why am I peculiar?”

Cas leans in, searching Dean’s eyes. Dean has been under such scrutiny by him before, but now it chills him. Cas’ eyes are still a lovely shade of blue, but they’re dull, empty. “Are you high?” Dean asks.

“Generally, yeah,” Cas says, a careless smile on his face.

It worries Dean to see Cas likes this. He declared a fight to a cruel, witty, and dangerous archenemy, not this broken shell of a man. “What happened to you?”

“Life,” Cas huffs. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s cheek. “You.”

“Cas-” Dean begins, but Cas already takes his hand away.

 

“You talk to me about the law and how I’m just a criminal, saying that we can’t be because you’re a cop, but your brother, a fucking prosecutor, can date a Demon?” Cas shakes his head. “Peculiar.”

“Date a Demon? Lilly?” Dean looks over to Sam and Lilly, who’s waving her hands and bounces on the couch while talking. “You’re really, really high.”

“Her name isn’t Lilly. It’s Ruby something.” Cas says. He puts his hand on Dean’s arm, right over the mark. “I’m The Angel, remember? I can see their true faces. Somewhere under that cardigan, she’s got a mark just like yours.”

Cas looks at Ruby with the same disgust he has for everything Demon, making it hard for Dean not to believe him. “You could just let my brother date her and have a laugh. Why tell me?”

“Watch out for your brother, Dean. He might get hurt.”

Cas takes his hand away, leaving Dean with a feeling of sudden cold on his arm. Then he walks away, seemingly without a real destination. Dean feels just as lost.

 

* * *

 

“You can’t do this to me, you sons of bitches! Let me out!”

Ruby has been shouting in the interrogation room for an hour now and it doesn’t look like she’s planning on stopping anytime soon. “She sure is a lively one,” Henriksen says as Ruby throws her weight against the cuffs that hold her arms to the table.

Jo and Dean had quite a time even getting her this far. Dean begins to understand what Cas said about her real face. Ruby might be bubbly around Sam, but faced with two cops who are out for her head, she changed gears quickly. It took them three days to take her down, but the work paid off. Ruby won’t be doing crime anytime soon.

“Do you want me to talk to her again?” Dean asks although he’s not really keen to do so.

“I doubt you’ll get much out of her in this state. And we have enough evidence to lock her away for a while.” Henriksen claps Dean’s shoulder as he walks past. “Not bad, Winchester.”

He leaves and Bobby smiles at Dean. “He’s right, you know. That was some fine police work.”

Dean remembers Cas’ empty eyes in the club. “I got lucky. Still, don’t like to think about a Demon pulling one over on my brother.”

“We’ll watch him, but there’s a good chance that girl just didn’t know better.”

Dean hopes so, but Ruby is still shouting in the other room. “You’ll pay for this, you hear me? He’ll take you down!”


	18. Sammy

Dean is sitting in the dim lights of the hospital room, fighting to keep his eyes open. One of the machines gives off a regular sound. Oddly enough, it’s not annoying but soothing. Hitched to the monitors with tubes and cables, Sam looks unusually small in the hospital bed although it’s barely long enough to fit him. His face is swollen, his skin a rainbow of colors. Dean knows there are more injuries all over his body, but they’re covered with a white sheet.

Dean startles when he almost falls off the chair and leans back, rubbing his face.

“Dean? Is that you?” Sam’s voice is weak, but it brings Dean back into an upright position.

“Yes, hey, it’s me.” Dean gets up and leans over the bed. That way Sam doesn’t have to strain his body to look at him.

Sam’s eyes still dart through the room. “Am I- Why am I in the hospital?”

“It’s alright, Sammy, you’ll be fine.” Dean gently squeezes Sam’s wrist. He has to avoid the hand since it has two broken fingers. “You got jumped on the street and beaten up pretty bad, but there won’t be any lasting damage.”

Sam closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them again. “I was on my way to the car, I remember that.”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t go all cop on me now.”

“I won’t. Just relax. I’m not here to ask questions.” Dean says the words, but judging by the half of Sam’s face that is still able to express emotions, they both know he’s lying.

“I don’t want you to rush off and do anything stupid,” Sam says.

Dean sits down in his chair. “Not going anywhere.”

Sam sighs. “I think it was two guys. They attacked me from behind. I couldn’t really see their faces and they didn’t talk.”

“Cowards,” Dean grunts.

“Promise me,” Sam says, his voice a lot stronger now.

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t look for them. I don’t want you to work on my case.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but it’s not like Sam will change his mind. “Fine, I won’t take your case.”

“Good, because there’s one thing I remember. I think one of them had a wing tattooed on his arm.”

“Well, I’m sure that’ll be helpful when they look for these guys.”

They keep talking about some nonsense until Sam falls asleep again. Dean finally doses off in the chair until Jo carefully shakes him awake a little later. “I’ll stay for a while. You go home and get some rest.”

Dean takes a last look at Sam before leaving the room. Two police officers are flanking the door, courtesy of Bobby. It doesn’t feel good to walk away from Sam, but he’s as safe as he can be right now.

As Dean walks to his car, the fresh air helps to wake him up completely. It almost hits him as hard as the sight of Baby. He didn’t have a chance to fix her up yet, and he’s not sure if he wants to trust a garage with her. The thought makes him remember Cas’ offer. Then, his mind takes off from there.

He hears Cas’ voice in his head, repeating the last words he said to him. “Watch out for your brother, Dean. He might get hurt.”

One of the attackers had a tattoo with a wing. Dean can’t believe it. Did Cas threaten to hurt Sam and Dean was stupid enough to just overlook it? Without really thinking, he jumps into his car. Baby’s tires screech as Dean pulls out of the parking spot and soon he’s speeding north, making his way up to Heaven Hill.

Dean might have promised Sam not to take the case, but that won’t keep him from killing the son of a bitch who’s responsible for what happened to Sam. Cas.

As soon as he pulls up at the huge gate in front of Heaven Manor, a guard walks over to his car. “Can I help you?”

“Dean Winchester, here to see Castiel.” The guard furrows his brows, making Dean hold up his badge. “He will talk to me, I guarantee you that.”

The guard walks back into the tiny house next to the gate, picking up the phone. Only a few moments later, he comes back, opening the gate. Dean speeds up the driveway, kicking up gravel. He parks right in front of two massive double doors that open up as soon as he climbs the steps in front of them. Inside stands a woman with dark hair, smiling at him. “Please follow me, Detective.”

It’s almost comical how they treat him considering who he is. Dean also has a hard time holding on to his anger. The house is just that overwhelming. It’s huge, with broad staircases, galleries, and long corridors. Everywhere are expensive furniture and pieces of art, rugs, paintings, and sculptures. Dean can’t begin to imagine how excited Sam would be about this place.

The woman leads him to a room with golden doors. As they approach, she gives the guard a nod and he opens the door for them. Dean follows her into the room while she announces him. “Castiel? It’s Dean Winchester.”

“Thank you, Hannah.”

She walks outside and closes the door, leaving Dean to stare at Cas. He’s standing behind a huge mahogany desk, papers clattered all over it. He’s wearing a black shirt and vest, the only color coming from his dark red tie. This wouldn’t be unusual, but his sleeves are rolled up and he has a pencil tucked behind his ear. For a split second, he looks like a cop in the midst of figuring out a case.

Dean shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thought. Cas takes the pencil away from behind his ear and throws it on the desk before rounding the table to stand in front of Dean. “You make house calls now?”

“I’m here because of Sam.”

“Who?”

Cas’ voice is so nonchalant that Dean’s anger flares searing hot. “My brother, you son of a bitch! Did you do this to him?”

“Do what?”

“I swear to God, Cas, if you’re playing games with me-”

“Why should I care about your Demon-loving brother?"

Dean takes a step closer to Cas. “Did you do it or not?”

“So what if I did?” Cas smiles at Dean. He never looked at him like this before. It’s as if something evil is possessing Cas, daring Dean to fall into the abyss with him. “What are you going to do about it? Arrest me?”

Dean doesn’t. Instead, he hits Cas right in the face. It’s not like in the interrogation though. This time, he’s not just losing control. He wants to hurt. Blood is already coming out of Cas’ nose while he’s struggling for balance, but Dean doesn’t give him time to recover. He hits Cas again, making him stumble back against the desk. Dean follows Cas, grabbing him by the vest and throwing him into a shelf by the nearest wall.

Books are tumbling down, falling onto Cas’ back as he struggles to get on his knees. Dean grabs him under the arms, lifting Cas up, just so he can push him against the wall and hit him again.

The door to the room flies open, the guard from outside storming in, but Cas lifts his hand. “Don’t. Go back outside.”

The guard watches him as if he’s gone mad, but retreats and closes the door. For the first time, Dean realizes that Cas has done nothing to defend himself. “Fight back, you son of a bitch! Come on!”

He turns around, pulling Cas with him. As he lets go of him, Cas stumbles into a shelf on the other side of the room. A small glass showcase shatters, the shards raining down on Cas, cutting into his skin. He rolls around with a grunt but makes no attempt to move further than that. Dean walks over to him, kicking him into the side. “I said fight back.”

In another fit of rage, Dean grabs the nearest thing from the shelf that he can find. It seems to be some sort of ritualistic dagger. Grabbing the front of Cas’ shirt, Dean pulls Cas up, holding the dagger up over him. “Last chance.”

“Do what you must,” Cas says, his voice calm.

With an angry scream, Dean brings down the dagger. It lands in a book next to Cas’ head, disappearing to the hilt in the pages. Staring at it, Dean lets go off Cas and they both fall back against the shelf behind them. Dean has never been so angry in his life. It scares him.

Cas looks over to him, his face covered in blood. “It wasn’t me, Dean. I have no reason to hurt your brother. Unlike Ruby.”

Dean clenches his fist, his hand hurting from hitting Cas. He knows that Cas isn’t lying, but he still wishes he could keep hurting him. “Then why the hell would you let me beat you up?”

“You needed it,” Cas says, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the blood from his face with his hand. “And I kind of deserved it.”

“You’re seriously fucked up.”

Cas doesn’t dispute the fact. He takes shallow breaths, holding his side. “If I told you the truth, you might have run out of here to do anything else stupid. I’d rather have you beat me up than get yourself killed.”

Dean gets to his feet, the anger completely gone. He only feels tired, like he could sleep for days. After lecturing Cas about right and wrong, it’s right out shameful what he just did. Still, he doesn’t feel bad about it. Maybe Dean did need this.

In such a short time, Cas managed to become so important to Dean, it let him believe that he could have more than just a life full of revenge and putting away bad guys. And then Cas turned out to be the bad guy. It’s not even that Dean is angry at Cas, he’s angry at himself for falling for the one guy that he can’t have. Unless he breaks the rules.

Dean walks over to the door, hoping that the guard outside will let him pass. Cas moves behind him, sitting up straighter. “You have no chance of finding these guys. I could help you if you let me.”

“And then? What are you going to do with them?” Dean looks back at Cas.

“Whatever you want, Dean. Your wish is my command.”

It’s hard not to feel a certain rush when the boss of one of the biggest crime families in the state offers to do your bidding. Dean’s blood is already racing from the fight, but Cas looking up at him from the ground, ready to serve him, sets Dean’s whole body on fire, his heart almost beating out of his chest. If he lets Cas help him, the guys who hurt Sam might end up dead.

A picture flashes before Dean’s eyes. Sammy in the hospital bed, his face all messed up, his body full of tubes and cables. He could’ve died if it wasn’t for the group of teenagers who saw him lying in the parking lot.

Dean takes a deep breath. “It was two guys. They jumped him in the parking lot after work. One of them has something with wings tattooed on his arm.”

Grabbing the handle of the door, Dean knows that he just changed the game, and not for the better. He might have to answer for this. Still, the thought of the two men who hurt Sam being at Cas’ mercy thrills Dean to the bone.

 

* * *

 

“Dean, you have to come see this,” Jo says, leaning through the door of their office.

Dean gets up to follow her, his mind occupied with other things. It’s been two weeks since Sam got attacked. He’ll be able to leave the hospital this week. Although Dean shouldn’t, he’s been hoping that he would get some sort of message from Cas. If he’s honest, he misses him.

Jo leads Dean to one of their interrogation rooms. “There are two guys in there, much likely Demons, and they said they’ll only talk to you.”

“When did I get so fucking popular?” Dean asks with a sigh, before heading into the room.

The two Demons are big and bulky, the usual brutes you send out to intimidate people and collect their money. Only thing is, they look like somebody got to them first. The one guy’s face is swollen all over, and he has his arm in a sling. The other one has a bandage around his head, covering one ear. Both of them are covered in cuts and bruises. Whoever put these two through the wringer did a thorough job.

“Alright gentlemen, I’m Dean Winchester. What do you want?”

Both men jump to their feet, standing up straight as if their commanding officer came into the room. “We want to turn ourselves in, Detective Winchester, sir.”

Dean needs a moment to recover. He can’t remember a single criminal calling him “sir” before. “Turn yourself in for what crime?”

Brute number one nudges the other guy as if he’s missing his cue in a play, making him jump. “It was us who beat up your brother, sir. We deeply regret our actions and are prepared to take any punishment that you see fit under the law of this city and the state.”

Something deep inside Dean roars. Cas actually came through for him, and while he did do quite the number on these guys, he didn’t just make them disappear. He’s handing them over to Dean, letting him punish them the legal way, like a cop. “Alright, I’ll have someone take your statements.”

“Thank you very much, Detective Winchester.”

“Thank you. We’re very sorry and hope that your brother is on his way to recovery. We’d appreciate it if you could convey our deepest apology to him as well.”

Dean leaves the room since he has absolutely no idea how to answer that. The door next to him flies open. Jo comes outside, looking at him with big eyes. “What was that?”

“Would you mind taking their statement?” Dean asks with a shrug.

She rolls her eyes but enters the room behind him. Bobby comes out of the room, looking up at Dean with an unreadable expression. “Detective Winchester, sir? What the hell did you do?”

“That wasn’t me, Bobby.”

“Of course you didn’t torture them,” Bobby grunts. “But somebody did it for you and you’ll usually get beaten up Demons when Angels are involved. So, you better start talking, and no bullshit this time.”

“I think it was Castiel Novak,” Dean admits. “He’s the one I did the Coven deal with every week when I was still undercover.”

“I know that.” Bobby furrows his brows, probably racking his brain what that has to do with anything. “But that’s no reason for him to torture your brother’s attackers.”

Dean takes a deep breath. How in the hell is he supposed to tell his foster father that he had sex with a mafia boss? “Back when we did the deals, I thought Castiel was just a little fish. We got along well, and one night he came back to my apartment with me.”

Bobby watches him as if he’s waiting for the rest of the story. “So? What has that to do with-?” Bobby’s eyes grow big and Dean wishes he could disappear into thin air. He’s waiting for the shouting to start, but Bobby’s voice becomes unusually calm. “That’s still going on?”

“No! God no, it was just the one time.”

“So I guess beating up two guys for you is some sort of twisted love declaration?”

“What? No!” Dean shouts, the word love in connection with Cas freaking him out more than anything else. “He’s not a freaking jilted lover. It was one time and it’s over.”

Bobby looks along the corridor as if suddenly waiting for an attack. “We better get you under protection again. You just saw what he’s capable of doing to people.”

“He doesn’t want to hurt me,” Dean says, surprising himself by how sure he sounds.

Bobby sighs, his eyes a little bit too glassy to Dean’s liking. “Love is a fickle thing, my boy. It’s right up there with hate, and one can become the other pretty damn fast.”


	19. Revelation

Castiel keeps his head low when he sees Gabriel approaching him although there’s no hiding from his brother. “Cassie,” Gabriel cheers, “you look ravishing. I heard Dean came by. Angry makeup sex?”

“I’m really not in the mood Gabriel.”

“I know.” Gabriel throws his arm around Castiel, leading him down the corridor. “That’s why I brought you a present.”

They stop in front of a one-sided mirror that allows them to look into Castiel’s kitchen. Castiel gasps. “You got him?”

Gabriel grins. “One Asmodeus, just for you. And the Demons think he’s on vacation. Nobody’s looking for him, so you can take your sweet, sweet time.”

Castiel has waited too long for this to take his time. He walks around the corner, entering the kitchen. Asmodeus isn’t tied up as there’s no need. A guy like him knows when he’s beat. “Castiel,” he says, sounding almost cheery.

“Asmodeus.” Castiel takes a chair and sits down opposite his unwilling guest. “I hope you've been treated well by my people.”

“Oh yes, quite the gentlemen. I’m not so happy to see you, though. I would’ve hoped to talk to one of your brothers.”

“Why’s that?”

Asmodeus looks around the room, his eyes roaming over the symbols on the walls. “In our circles, one hears rumors. They say Heaven Manor has a special kitchen, a place that nobody wants to see and only a few people ever leave. It’s the hunting ground for The Angel.”

“There’s a good chance you’ll be one of the few, provided you answer a couple of simple questions.”

Asmodeus laughs. “I don’t care if they say that you’re worse than Alastair. I’m a Demon. I already was a Demon when you were just a little fledgling. I have no desire to answer any of your questions.”

“Then just listen.” Castiel leans back in his chair. “Not so long ago, I met a doctor who told a lot of interesting stories. Did you know that there are people who woke from a coma and then told the doctors that they were aware of their surroundings the whole time? Imagine that. Being able to hear, see, and smell everything around you, but everybody thinks you’re gone. You can’t speak, you can’t move, you can’t even move your eyes.”

Asmodeus stares at Castiel, his face betraying nothing. Castiel continues, “I asked the doctor if it was possible to put a person into that state on purpose. He was appalled. After all, who would do such a thing? But I know a devil when I see one, and with a little convincing, he was oh so ready to tell me about his ideas. All we would need was a willing test subject.”

“You’ll just end up killing me,” Asmodeus huffs.

Castiel smiles. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just consider that I have the means and motivation. I have a small room next door where an old sick relative could be taken care of for years, even centuries. You’re not that old. You could have a long, long life with the best medical care money can buy. The question is if you would enjoy it that much.”

Asmodeus still doesn’t say anything, but his eyes betray him nonetheless. He wouldn’t butch by being beaten and cut open, but he’s smart enough to understand a real threat.

“I wouldn’t even bother,” Castiel says, “but I respect you. You know that not playing by the rules requires a certain code of honor. Killing my sister wasn’t right. All I’m asking you is to restore the balance, right that wrong. And you can walk out that door unharmed.”

Asmodeus’ eyes travel to the door and back to Castiel. “If I give you a name, you’ll let me go?”

“If you tell the truth, I will walk you to the door myself.”

Castiel watches how Asmodeus’ mind is racing, barely able to contain his excitement. Asmodeus is one of the highest-ranking Demons but never made it into leadership. Certainly not for a lack of trying. There’s a good chance his loyalty started wavering a while ago.

Asmodeus holds his hand out to Castiel. A deal between Angels and Demons needs a handshake. Old rules. Castiel shakes his hand. Asmodeus takes a deep breath. “It was Lucifer. You took his son, so he took your sister. In his mind, that was a fair deal.”

It’s so obvious. Anna died shortly after Castiel took in Jack. Lucifer was still a little foot soldier back then. Castiel always thought it was an order from higher up. Instead, it was simple revenge.

Castiel stands up and walks over to the door, holding it open for Asmodeus. “After you.”


	20. New Beginnings

Castiel is sitting in the Throne Room, unable to move. The phone is ringing mercilessly and Castiel just got the info that Dean is on the other line. He actually called the number Castiel gave him after their night together. It has to mean something. He picks up the phone, his heart beating fast, his voice weak. “Dean?”

“Heya, Cas.” Dean sounds friendly, almost playful, as if their last few encounters didn't happen. When Castiel fails to speak, Dean continues, "Can we meet? I want to talk to you. Face to face."

What if it's a trap? A way to arrest him for whatever reason. Castiel's heart races. It's Dean. What choice does he have? "The place where we went after the farmhouse, at 9."

Cas hangs up, looking over to the calendar on his desk as if to convince himself that he's still in the real world. He is. Today is Thursday.

 

* * *

 

In the dark, the house seems to come right out of a horror novel. The walls are blacker than anything around them, the broken windows are holes so deep they could swallow you whole. Like a spider's web, the fire escape crawls up on one side of the house, eager to catch Castiel.

He thinks about using the front entrance, but since he doesn't know how intact the structure is, it might be a good idea to stick to his usual way. Coming closer to his makeshift camp, Castiel hears footsteps and a bit of light is falling into the corridor.

It's almost too bright as Castiel walks through the door. Dean seems to have found his box of half-burnt candles and arranged them all around the room. They burn with warm light, illuminating Dean as he crouches in their midst, lighting the last one. "I hope you don't mind."

Although he should be happy about Dean's friendliness, it annoys Castiel that he acts so normal. He can't help his mocking tone. "How romantic. You sure put out all the stops, Dean."

"I didn't feel like sitting in the dark, alright?" Dean gets up and faces Cas, the sea of lights between them.

"Why am I here?"

"Don't you want to check first?" Dean asks, holding up his arms.

Castiel wonders why Dean does this to him. The back and forth, the yes and no. He should walk away now. Instead, he finds himself stepping over the candles, yet again trying to get closer to Dean.

He quickly runs his hands over Dean's chest and back before stepping away again. "So, what do you want?"

Dean wrings his hands, watching the candles. "I want to apologize."

"For what? You have to be more specific."

Dean looks up at Castiel, knowing full well that Castiel is quoting him. "For hitting you. You kind of saved my ass there and all I did was hurting you."

"It's not like you haven't hurt me before, Dean."

"I know, the interrogation-"

"No," Castiel interrupts Dean, "you hurt me long before that. I thought we at least parted as friends. Instead, you put cuffs on me and tried to throw me into jail."

"You're the freaking boss of the Angels, Cas. And you lied to me the whole time."

"And you didn't lie?"

Dean stares at Castiel as if he lost his mind. "I was undercover."

"You could have told me."

"Yeah right," Dean huffs. "Because that's not a surefire way to get myself killed. I couldn't trust anybody."

"Then tell me," Castiel says with a smile, "why I should have trusted you with my secret. Shouldn't trust run both ways? After all, I still helped you after knowing that you are a cop."

"I don't have that luxury," Dean says through gritted teeth. "Romeo and Juliet don't work. They both die in the end."

"Out of love. You, on the other hand, hate me."

Dean takes a hasty step forward, almost toppling over a few of the candles. "Dammit Cas, I don't hate you! I hate myself for falling for the one guy I can never have."

The second the words are out, Dean turns around. He runs his hands through his hair, staring into the ground. Castiel feels like falling himself. Does that mean that Dean did like him? It wasn't just a ruse?

"Anyway," Dean says, turning back to Castiel, "thank you for finding the guys who hurt Sam. I was, um, glad to see that you didn't just take them out, but actually gave us the chance to bring them to justice."

"Justice," Castiel huffs. From deep inside of him, something dark bubbles to the surface. "You're such a hypocrite, Dean. I finally found out who killed Anna. I waited for that moment since the day she died. I have hundreds of plans on how to bring that son of a bitch to justice, but I haven't set any of them in motion. You know why? Because of you!"

Castiel comes closer to Dean, not caring if he throws over the candles and sets the corps of this house ablaze. "I keep wondering what you might say, what you would think of me. I ask myself over and over again if what I want is the right thing to do. And now you tell me that torturing those guys into submission was alright? Make up your fucking mind!"

They stare at each other, the room dead silent. Castiel feels like he can hear the candles burn.

"I know the world isn't just black and white." Dean looks over to one of the windows. The thick blanket that covered it is lying on the floor. Dean must have taken it down, letting in the moonshine. It makes Castiel think that the lack of curtains in Dean's apartment is a deliberate choice as well.

"Why did you never leave the Angels?" Dean asks.

Castiel sighs. "I wanted to, but I stayed for Anna. She was too young to come with me, and I couldn't leave her behind. I told myself that I would leave after the funeral, but then they put her down into the ground and I kept thinking how she's down there now, forgotten by the world while her torturer walks free. That's not justice, Dean. So I decided I would right that wrong, and being an Angel was the best chance I had."

Dean tears his eyes away from the window, meeting Cas’ gaze. "You said you could help me with my demons. Then let me help you with yours. If you know who it is, I'm sure we can make a case. Let's lock them up, and then you're free to finally leave."

"You would let me go? After everything that I've done?"

Dean gives Castiel a smile. It's somewhat broken, almost as if it hurts him. "Guess I'm a hypocrite."

Castiel's heart stutters. He tells himself he should walk away, but it's Dean. His eyes are glowing in the lights of the candles, speaking more to Castiel than he ever could with words.

"It's not true that I'm the one guy you can't have," Castiel says. "You could have had me. You could still have me. The choice is yours, nobody else’s."

Dean looks at Castiel as if he’s in pain, shaking his head just a tiny fraction. Castiel’s not even surprised. How could someone as good as Dean be with someone as horrible as him? It doesn’t even hurt. Castiel is tired. He turns around. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Castiel is almost through the door when Dean springs into action. “Cas, wait!” He follows Castiel and grabs him by the shoulder to turn him around. “You were right, okay? I would clip your wings. I want you to stay. I need you, Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel says, trying not to fall for those eyes that always make him give in. “You’re still a cop, and I’m still an Angel. There’s no changing that.”

“I know, but that didn’t bother us when I was still a Demon.” Dean holds on to Castiel’s shoulders, his voice desperate. “I think we can do this. Let’s just-”

He's searching for the words, his fingers digging into Castiel’s flesh. “Make it up as we go?” Castiel suggests.

“Yes.” Dean’s eyes grow wide, Castiel’s words the revelation he’s always been looking for. He frames Castiel’s face with his hands, his touch so light as if he fears to hurt him again. “I’m not good at all of this, but I know I can do better. Will you let me try?”

Castiel smiles against Dean’s hands. “I will.”

Dean pulls Castiel in, still barely touching him. His lips are ghosting over Castiel’s before Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s. Then he walks backward and tugs at Castiel’s hand to come with him. “Come on, I need to apologize.”

“You did.”

“Not enough,” Dean says, his face dead serious.

In front of the mattress, Dean kisses Castiel again before peeling off his layers off clothing. Castiel returns the favor until their naked bodies are bathing in the moonlight. It’s almost like their first time. Dean pulls Castiel down onto the mattress, making sure he’s as comfortable as possible.

Then he says sorry a thousand times over. With light kisses and soft touches. With sweet praise whispered into Castiel’s ear and little marks sucked into his skin. With meaningful touches and needy thrusts. Dean uses Castiel’s name as a prayer and begs for closeness with every glance, every touch, and every word. It’s a promise that Dean will keep Castiel forever. No more interruptions.

* * *

 

Dean barely lets Castiel go in the end, but the house is not the best place to stay another night. Standing in front of the fire escape, Castiel doesn’t think of it as dark and creepy anymore. Having Dean makes everything brighter. Castiel enjoys Dean’s arms around him, the touch full of promise.

“Are you going to tell me? You know, Anna?” Dean asks.

“I need to make sure it’s true. But then I’ll tell you. I promise.”

Dean nods. There’s no distrust coming from him. Just patience and understanding. Castiel is sure that Dean is in this now, just as much as he is. Once Castiel is sure that Lucifer is the one who killed Anna, he’ll give him over to Dean. The thought of doing the right thing makes his heart feel light.

“Take care of yourself,” Dean says.

“Oh, I will.” Castiel smiles, his heart overflowing with something he’s not used to. Happiness.

Dean’s eyebrows knit together. With a sigh, he pulls Castiel in again and kisses him. It’s soft, but with so much unspoken words that Castiel’s knees go weak. They’ll both need time, but he knows that they’ll get there in the end. Castiel has no doubt that one day they’ll read each other like open books, understand each other with tiny motions, and make each other smile with only a gaze. He can’t wait for their happy end.

Castiel can tell that it takes all of Dean’s might to let go of him. It’s the same for Castiel. Although they’re mere inches apart, he longs for Dean, dreading his departure, but eagerly awaiting the next time they’ll see each other. Dean soothes his furious heart with a soft smile. “Goodnight, Cas.”

 

* * *

 

 

All his way back to Heaven Manor, Castiel feels like flying. His life is far from perfect, and he’s not sure what the future with Dean might hold for them, but at least there’s hope now.

Arriving at the Throne Room, Castiel is surprised to find the lights still on. His heart sinks the second he sees why. Gabriel and Balthazar are sitting together with Garth. The poor guy’s face is so mingled that Castiel mainly recognizes him by his lankish stature.

“What happened?” Castiel gasps, rushing over to him.

“Lucifer,” Balthazar says. His sad voice frightens Cas.

“You got your wish brother,” Gabriel spits, getting to his feet. “This means war.”

Balthazar shakes his head, looking from Gabriel to Garth. “They tortured him. Threatened his family. He gave them everything he knew.”

“I’m so sorry,” Garth whines. He’s barely able to speak through his bloody swollen lips. The second the words are out, he breaks down in tears.

Castiel pulls him into a hug. “It’s alright, Garth. We forgive you. It’s not your fault.”

Still holding Garth, Castiel looks up to Gabriel. “Is his family safe?”

“We already got them out of the city.”

Castiel lets go of Garth and helps him to his feet. “You’ll go with them. Tonight. Come on, go.”

Gabriel closes the door behind Garth. “If Lucifer gives the police the information they got out of Garth, they’ll be here by morning. I don’t know how much will actually stick, but this time, it looks bad. Really bad.”

“I take it you have a plan?” Balthazar asks, hopeful now. His eyes are fixed on Castiel.

Castiel walks over to his desk, getting out a thick folder. He throws it onto the table before his brothers. “I suspected that Lucifer would go on the attack soon. So, yes. I have a plan.”

“Which is?” Gabriel lifts up the folder, opening it at random.

“I have a way to get all of you out of the city and to safety. By the time they get here, heaven will be empty.”

“And you?” Balthazar asks.

Castiel wishes his part in the plan could be different. After his time with Dean, he wishes he could stay. He wishes he could fight. There’s no way, though. Lucifer is angry at him. He wants Castiel. He needs to give himself up to give his family a chance.

With memories of Dean on his mind, Castiel closes his eyes. Back at that first night with Dean, he chose him over his family. Tonight, he can’t make that choice. Castiel didn’t know it at the time, but when he told Dean that he could have him, he lied. It rips his heart apart, leaving nothing but a deep dark abyss.

Castiel opens his eyes, looking at his brothers. There’s a reason their father made him the leader. Castiel always loved others more than himself.

“I will have to die.”


	21. Heaven's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: trigger warning in the end notes (beware spoilers)

Dean is leaning against the garden wall, the crouching position becoming more and more uncomfortable. He can see his breath as little puffs of air before they disappear into nothingness. Dean wishes he could do the same. In front of Dean and behind him are more police officers, all of them ready for the raid of the century. Today, they’re going to storm Heaven Manor.

Dean’s heart almost gave out when Bobby told him. They got some very detailed and valuable information. Henriksen actually smiled. For the thousands time, Dean wishes he would have given Cas a warning, but there was no time. It’s been a week since they saw each other last, the memory of it fresh in Dean’s mind. He prays that Cas might somehow get away.

They get the order and go in. The team leaders shout short commands. The others answer. It might take a while to search the whole estate, but even in his confused state, one thing becomes clear to Dean. Nobody’s here.

As soon as the main rooms are secure enough, the team leaders meet in the huge entrance hall, giving Bobby their updates. “Absolutely nothing,” one of them reports. “They took the art from the walls, rugs from the floor, even some of the furniture. And not a living soul around.”

“So somebody tipped them off,” Bobby grunts.

“We had to take the chance,” Henriksen says. “But there’s one good thing. It doesn’t look like they’re planning on coming back. One crime family down.”

The words echo in Dean’s mind. He remembers how the city became safe for Cas and him when there were enough Angels around to match the Demons. If the Angels are all gone…

“That’s what he wanted!” Dean shouts, the puzzle pieces coming together in his mind.

Bobby gives him a weary look. “Who?”

“Lucifer! God, that’s clever. He gave us the information and we just did the dirty work for him. We took down the Angels.”

“What are you babbling about, Winchester?” Henriksen looks at Dean as if he wants to shoot him right there. He surely doesn’t want for Dean to take away his win.

Dean runs his hands through his hair, his heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you see? He played us. The only thing keeping the Demons in check were the Angels. With them gone, the Demons are free to take the whole city.”

“You do realize that there’s still the VCPD-”

Dean interrupts Henriksen with a snort. “Yeah, like the Demons give a shit.”

Henriksen is growing three sizes, but before he can say anything, another team leader comes into the room. “Chief? You should take a look at this. We found a burned out car outside, and there’s a body in it.”

“Do we know who it is?”

“Not yet. We’re still looking for clues.”

Dean follows Bobby and Henriksen outside. With such a clean getaway it seems odd that the Angels would leave a messy crime scene like this. And who the hell would they burn in a car? Walking past the other police officers, Dean spots the car. The basic structure is pretty much intact, but the outside material is blackened and most of the inside is gone. A dark figure is in the back seat, but Dean can’t see it clearly, with one of their guys blocking the view.

“Those sick bastards played music to this?” Henriksen asks.

He’s pointing at a table on the other side of the yard, a record player sitting on it. As Dean takes a look, one of the officers is holding up the case of the record. It looks familiar, so Dean walks over and takes a look at the actual record. As he reads the words, they seem to burn a hole in his chest. 

“The Capris - There’s a moon out tonight”

“Dean?” Jo’s voice comes from far away. “Dean, I need you to come with me.” 

Dean walks past her, but she comes after him, holding on to his arm. Next to the car, the police officer who searched it hands a small object to Bobby.

“How sure are you?” Henriksen asks.

“We will do everything we can to be sure before we put anything on the record,” the officer says. “But we’re fairly certain it’s him.”

Dean stumbles closer. Jo is hanging on his arm now, trying to pull him in the other direction. Bobby holds up the object. It’s a golden ring. In the bright morning sun, Dean can see the wings. “Only the leader of the Angels wears this one.”

“You gotta hand it to Castiel Novak,” Henriksen says. “He really played us all, but at least he’s the kind of captain who goes down with his ship.”

“No,” Dean whispers, his feet giving in under him. “He can’t be…”

It takes all of Jo’s strength to keep him upright. She steers him away from the other men, around a hedge that surrounds a statue with a beautiful angel. Dean falls to his knees there, staring up at it. 

The burning sensation from before is gone. There’s only emptiness inside of him now. Dean feels like nothing is holding him in this world, not even his own body. He’ll disappear any second now. He doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Castiel fakes his death. Dean not knowing that it's fake, believes that Cas is dead.


	22. Lonesome Town

It’s been a week since the raid on Heaven Manor and Dean wishes he could get the empty feeling back. It stayed for about a day, holding Dean upright. He tried to stay on the job, but Bobby sent him home. Dean thinks Jo might have something to do with that.

On his way home, Dean bought curtains. They’re the ugliest things in the world, but nailed to the wall above his windows, they do their job. They keep the light out, night and day. Dean keeps them closed at all times, just like the one in front of his bedroom. He can never sleep there again.

After hours in the dark, the sadness came. Dean still feels the hole in his chest, but it’s heavy now. Something dark is creeping in, filling him up until he’s almost bursting at the seems.

The alcohol doesn’t help. Dean keeps drinking, though. It makes him sleep a few hours at night. Without dreams. Without nightmares.

Dean’s choice of music doesn’t help. Sam said so. Dean still listens to the same song on repeat.

_“There's a place where lovers go_   
_To cry their troubles away…”_

Sam enters Dean’s apartment without even knocking. He asked Dean for a key the second he saw him after the raid. He probably thought about taking any sharp objects as well. Dean doesn’t care. He only wants the booze and the music.

_“And they call it lonesome town_   
_Where the broken hearts stay..."_

Sam sits down on the floor next to Dean, helping him into a more upright position.

_“You can buy a dream or two_   
_To last you all through the years…”_

“It’s officially confirmed now. I’m sorry, Dean.”

_“And the only price you pay_   
_Is a heartful of tears...”_

Maybe that’s what the darkness is. Tears. They come out now, rushing down Dean’s face. They don’t stop for a long time.

_“Goin' down to lonesome town_   
_Where the broken hearts stay_   
_Goin' down to lonesome town_   
_To cry my troubles away…”_

It takes a while before Dean understands that his face is pressed against Sam’s chest, his shirt soaked by Dean’s tears. Sam’s arms are around him. He’s telling him that everything will be fine. Dean wishes to believe him, but all of Sam’s soothing words topple into the abyss that is Dean’s heart. He feels none of it.

As Dean moves, Sam takes his arms away. He hands him a handkerchief, waiting patiently for Dean to clean his face and nose. Then, Sam clears his throat. “Now that it’s official, I had a notary approach me. Castiel left you this in his will.”

Sam hands Dean a small wooden box. Carved into the lid is the letter A with a crown on top, surrounded by wings. For a split second, Dean wants to throw it away. Cas being an Angel is the thing that killed him, that took him away from Dean. “What is it?” Dean asks, his voice hoarse from crying.

“I don’t know. Castiel was very clear about that in the will. You are the only person allowed to open it,” Sam says. “Do you want me to go?”

_“In the town of broken dreams_   
_The streets are filled with regret…”_

“No, Sammy. Please stay.”

Sam stays where he is. His warm shoulder is pressed against Dean’s, but he looks to the front, trying to give Dean some privacy.

Dean opens the box. Inside is a piece of thick paper, a short handwritten text on it.

 

_“Dear Detective Winchester,_

_thank you for the best nights of my life. I often felt like a thing, a monster. You made me a person. You made me human._

_Please don’t be a Romeo. You’re much more than that. Whatever they made you do, you’re a good man._

_Maybe we see each other on the road. I’m on my long journey now._

_Goodnight, Dean._

 

Dean puts the box down, resting the card on top of it. Then he gets to his feet. “You can read it, if you want.”

_“Maybe down in lonesome town_   
_I can learn to forget...”_

After a moment, Sam sighs. “So, he really wanted this. He did it to himself.”

Dean walks over to the window. With all his might, he rips one of the ugly curtains from the wall. The moonlight kisses his face. “It was his choice. Nobody else’s.”

_“Maybe down in lonesome town_   
_I can learn to forget.”_

Looking up into the night sky, Dean thinks about the talk he had with Cas. He can see the long road ahead. Maybe, at some point during his journey, Cas looks at the same moon as Dean. The thought makes him smile.

“Goodnight, Cas.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♡
> 
> I know that the ending is very sudden. That has two reasons:  
> 1\. due to the challenge rules, I was only allowed to write 50k. I would have loved to write more.  
> 2\. I still kept the ending like this (instead of cutting earlier scenes) because it made sense. Death is often something sudden and what kicks you in the gut is exactly that you can't prepare for it.  
> I also want to explain why I kept things like the deal with Crowley or the conversation with Asmodeus and I hope it gives you some hope. If everything goes according to plan, there's going to be a part 2. My artist and I had a lot more ideas and only the 50k rule kept us from using them. I don't know how long it'll take us, but we love our little Valentine and we want to tell the whole story.
> 
> Thank you again to Heikü for being the best artist and team member one can ask for. She put so much effort and work into all of the art and kept me going when I might have gone into writer's block. Please don't just leave here without taking another look at her [ art masterpost(s)](https://cas-watches-over-you.tumblr.com/post/185737493895/the-beautiful-city-of-valentine-is-in-the-grasp-of). Please show her as much dedication as she showed this project. A few likes, reblogs, even a comment or message here or there would be so well earned!! I'd thank you dearly for that.
> 
> And I hope to see you all for part 2 :)


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